A Forced Love
by LoveBlossoms
Summary: With the fall of Voldermort, the Wizarding World has changed. Now, muggleborns must marry before they turn nineteen. Hermione Granger must make the hardest decision of her life. Knowing that the rest of her life will be shaped by this choice, who will she choose? And what will become of her in married life? Will she learn to love the man she chose? Or will she be miserable? *AU*
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__** Please let me know what you think of this. I have always been fascinated with the idea of Snape falling in love with another muggleborn. There's more to the story, so let me know if you want to read it. **_

_**Also: This follows the plot of the series up through the sixth book. I ignored the seventh book, though included some things from it for the sake of time.**_

I looked down at the letter in my hand, stunned into silence. When the Ministry of Magic passed the Law Regarding the Safety of Marriage six months ago, I didn't think anything of it. I had read about it, of course. I knew what it said. But, for some reason, I figured it wouldn't affect me too greatly; I mean the purebloods had been trying for over a hundred years to weed out all the muggleborn bloodlines. Now, with this letter from the Ministry in hand, I realized the extent to which this new law reached. Not only were the wizards and witches younger than me affected, but apparently those left unmarried at my age also were. I knew of only one couple that was married at our age—we had just finished our seventh year eleven months ago.

The law dictated that all muggleborns be married within six months after turning eighteen. It was explained that this was to ensure the quality of magic future generations of the wizarding community produced, but it was understood that it was really to protect the muggleborns. With the fall of Voldemort almost a year ago, former Death Eaters that had managed to outrun the Ministry had taken muggleborns for spouses. But instead of a happy honeymoon, there would be an unexplained death of the muggleborn witch or wizard. It continued in this fashion, with the Death Eaters taking spouse after spouse until the Ministry of Magic stepped in with this new law.

Knowing all this didn't make the situation any easier, though. It just made me more frustrated with the world Voldemort had unknowingly created. I found myself playing with the package that came today, trying to sort through my thoughts, when two pieces of parchment fell out of it. I opened the one that had my name on the outside of it.

_Miss Granger,_

_ Due to your exceeding accomplishments regarding magical use and overall intellect, the Department of Tracking Magical Bloodlines, in accordance with the Law Regarding the Safety of Marriage, has found you to be eligible to marry wizards of lesser than pureblood status. Please find enclosed a list of men with suitable bloodlines that have expressed an interest in marrying you. _

I didn't look at the list. I couldn't bring myself to face it yet. Instead, I returned to the original letter that had been sent to me the day before, grabbing it. My hands anxiously creased the parchment in the same place over and over again.

_Miss Granger,_

_ The grace period allotted to you after the passage of the Law Regarding the Safety of Marriage has come to an end. A formal acceptance of a proposal from an approved suitor must be received by 30 July. A list of eligible suitors is forthcoming. Please contact the Department of Tracking Magical Bloodlines with any questions._

I flipped between the two letters, trying to organize my thoughts into something comprehensible. I had to pick a man by the end of the month—that left me three weeks. There was no way around it. Disregarding the law would warrant action from the Ministry; and after the Second Wizarding War, the Ministry was much more strict—and efficient. I wanted to be sure in my decision. That meant hours of analysis, weighing options. The earlier I started the process, the more time I would have to accept my decision before the suitor would be informed.

I sighed and reached for the piece of parchment that had been left untouched. I opened the scroll and was instantly shocked by the number of names on it. I laid it out on the desk. It was sorted into two columns: those with a pureblood bloodline and those with a bloodline that ranged from halfblood to just short of pureblood. I took out a quill and ink and bent over the parchment.

With the preliminary look through, I crossed off suitors known to be dangerous towards muggleborns. It only eliminated a few men. On the second time through, I decided that I would not settle for someone I had never even met. I mean, what if they didn't even speak English? This eliminated over three quarters of the list. I transferred the remaining suitors to a new parchment, putting all the names in one column. The bloodlines of the suitors didn't matter to me. I looked over the names again.

Ron Weasley. George Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Seamus Finnegan. Viktor Krum. Harry Potter. Severus Snape.

Seven men.

I started in with my quill again, immediately removing Ron and George from the list. George, I knew, was engaged to Alicia Spinnet. The wedding was only a few weeks away—the short time to prepare necessary because of the new law. Ron was my brother. I knew why he had put his name on the list—we had discussed it the previous night when I received the letter informing me that I had to make a decision. He wanted to know that he would be willing to marry me so that it wouldn't feel so forced. But there was no way around the truth: this was forced. I didn't want Ron to have to give up the possibility of a happy marriage in the hopes of providing me with an acceptable marriage, when I knew that we would both be miserable. I couldn't condemn him to that. So he knew that I wouldn't pick him, and he was alright with that. Next, I crossed off Harry. His wedding was already planned-it was only two weeks away. Hell, I was Ginny's maid of honor.

That left four men.

I decided that the next important factor would be where we would live. That immediately took Charlie off the list. I didn't want to relocate to Romania. I took Viktor off the list, too. Even though I was pretty sure he would move wherever I wanted to, I knew his Quidditch career would limit the options—and none of them would be England.

It took me two hours, but now I found myself down to two suitors. I bit my lip, tapping my quill on the parchment. What would be the deciding factor? The apprenticeship offered by Hogwarts? The current state of the relationship? Age?

I mulled over the choices. Seamus was my age. We hadn't talked much, but we were civil with each other. He wanted to work for the Ministry. Professor Snape wasn't my age. We weren't civil with each other. He was Headmaster of Hogwart's. I bit my lip, nervously tapping my fingers. I took a deep breath and then circled my choice.

I grabbed a roll of parchment from my trunk in the corner of the room. I addressed the Department of Tracking Magical Bloodlines, briefly stating that I was accepting the proposal of Severus Snape. I went over to the owl the Weasley family gave me for Christmas the year before—the owl I affectionately named Pumpkin because of his brown-orange coloring. I strapped the letter to his leg and led him to the window. "This goes to the Ministry," I told him seriously, "as quickly as possible." He hooted back at me. I opened the window, and he leaped easily from my arm out into the mid-morning air.

The air was warm; it kept me standing in front of the window. I shivered a little, the heat running through me, trying to fight off the cold that was seeping into me as the reality of my decision settled over me. I stared out across the street, not really seeing. I registered that the sun had come to shine onto the houses across the street. It was close to midday; almost two hours had passed since I sent the letter to the Ministry.

I jumped when there was a knock on my door. I looked up, surprised to find Remus standing in the doorway. A plate full of food was in his hands. He raised his eyebrows. I shrugged my shoulders. He walked up to me quietly, his footsteps making no sound. He looked at the various pieces of parchment scattered on the desk. "Decision making can be a difficult process."

I nodded. "And time consuming."

"Important decisions _should_ be time consuming. I'd be worried if you didn't allow enough time to make a decision you can live with." He looked back at the desk. "Have you made the preliminary list? In six hours, I imagine you would be able to do that."

I bit my lip again. I took the plate of food from him before walking back to the desk. I set the plate down and looked at the various lists of names. I handed him the final list—the one with the seven names crossed out and one circled. Remus took it, looking over it. He looked back up at me, his eyes pulled together in confusion. "Hermione, is this right?" I took a deep breath and nodded. He raised one eyebrow. "Why?"

"I suppose the most immediate reason is the offer of becoming an apprentice under Professor Slughorn," I explained. Remus nodded. "And at least that's one thing that we have the same: a passion for Potions." I paused for a moment, organizing my line of thinking. "But it goes deeper than that. I know that Profes—I mean Severus—and I don't get along well, but I, at least, respect him. And if I want a marriage that even remotely works, that's where the relationship needs to begin." He nodded again. I took that to mean that, at the very least, my logic was sound.

He handed the list back to me. "It makes sense. It positions you to be able to continue your education with, perhaps, the least amount of outside stress." He paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "I encourage you to speak to Molly Weasley about anything regarding physical—"

"I don't think that'll be a problem." I cut him off quickly. I didn't want to think about all the possible fallouts of my decision yet. He nodded, remaining serious. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone who I picked, though I don't mind if everyone knows that I have made my decision," I told him while taking back the list. "I've already sent my formal acceptance to the Ministry, so there's no backing out now. I would rather speak to him about it before everyone else is told."

"Of course, Hermione," he said. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, then turned around and left the room.

I looked out the window for another moment from where I stood next to my desk, but then I remembered the food he had brought me. I sat down and ate as much as I was able. It wasn't much. The stress of making my decision and the new anxiety that festered in the pit of my stomach seemed to have made it impossible to eat as a normal portion.

I looked at Professor Snape's name in my handwriting, a large circle around it. I traced it with my fingers. The hours slowly passed, yet I only sat there, numb, unable to bring myself downstairs and talk with everyone else. As the sun was shining directly into my room, Pumpkin returned empty handed. I ushered him into the room. As I watched him eat affectionately the treat I had laid in his cage, I suddenly remembered one other point of formality. I hastily wrote a note to Professor Slughorn, informing him that I was accepting the position of apprentice under him, understanding that it was a position to be fulfilled only by a student intent on teaching Potions. I once again sent Pumpkin into the sky with a letter, instructing him that it was to be delivered to Slughorn.

With this completed, I returned to my desk, where I watched the sun set through the window, playing again with the final list. When the sun was completely set and darkness began to settle around the room, there was a gentle knock on the door. I looked up slowly. Ginny stood in the doorway. She pulled her face into a small smile.

"Dinner's ready, Hermione," she said quietly. I nodded and stood up. I started walking towards her before I remembered the list in my hand. I looked down at it, then folded it and put it in my front pocket. I walked over to her, trying to seem composed; I could tell in the way her eyes saddened that she was not fooled.

She reached out to me, taking my hand in hers. We began walking downstairs towards the kitchen, where the majority of the Order was waiting to eat. Even though it had been nearly a year since Voldemort had been killed, many of the Order members found that they enjoyed seeing each other, so they often came to Grimmauld Place for dinner. Ginny squeezed my hand when we reached the door to the kitchen. I started to walk forward, intending to open the door, but Ginny stopped me.

She looked at me intently. "Remus told us that you had informed the Ministry today of your decision. Know that no matter who you choose, I will always love you. I will do whatever you need me to do to help you, alright?" I tried not to cry. I looked at her, biting my lip slightly. She knew me so well. She probably understood what my isolation today meant.

I leaned closer to her, grabbing her other hand, gripping them tightly for support. "Ginny, I'm going to need your help. " She nodded, leaning in closer to me so I didn't need to speak as loud. She knew what was coming. "Ginny…" I took a deep breath. "I chose Professor Snape."

The shock flew across her face before she could contain it. She searched my face for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright," she whispered back to me. And then she hugged me tightly. I hugged her back, hiding my face in her shoulder. She knew. She knew, and she didn't look at me strangely. She didn't tell me how horrible of a person I was, or how I was idiotic for not choosing someone like Ron. I pulled away from her, taking a deep breath.

"Ok. I think I can do this now," I whispered.

She smiled. "I'm with you all the way. Don't worry." I smiled back—a genuine smile. I could feel the warmth of it slowly light up my face. It spread through my body, brining warmth to me; I felt the first bit of hope since the Law was passed six months ago.

She squeezed my hand one more time then opened the door to the kitchen. We stepped inside, and I noticed how there were more members of the Order that came for dinner than on any normal night. Everyone looked up when Ginny walked in with me following behind. Many smiled at me. Mrs. Weasley walked up to me, giving me a big hug. "I'm so happy you were able to make a decision," she confessed into my hair. I smiled when she pulled away. Maybe everyone would still support me, even after they knew the specific man I had chosen.

I sat down between Ron and Ginny. Ron looked over at me as he took a spoonful of mashed potatoes out of the serving bowl. I shook my head. He nodded. "I received a letter this morning. A muggleborn from France picked me. She's coming out here next week." He seemed pretty happy about it. Maybe he was more like Bill than originally thought.

I played with my food, just moving it from one side to the other. Ron was shoveling his in; Ginny was feeding Harry flirtatiously. Conversations were going on across the table. I was engaged in a conversation with Remus concerning the upcoming year at Hogwart's. He was delighted to have been offered the job of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts earlier the previous day. We were discussing avidly what the coming year would bring, the experiences that would be the most meaningful. Our conversation added to the mood of the night; it was a night of feeling the imminence of decisions soon being brought into fruition. The whole environment was pretty loud; I could hardly hear Ginny's giggling beside me.

The door to the kitchen slammed open. Several people yelped in surprise. I jumped, dropping my fork onto my plate. I saw Harry and Remus draw their wands, then lower them. I looked up to see who had showed up late.

Severus Snape stood in the doorway, a piece of parchment in his hand and a look upon his face that sent a shiver of fear down my spine. He looked only at me; it was as if the other twenty some people weren't in the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thank you all SO much for the wonderful reviews! I will definitely work to update this at least once a week. It's not completely written, and I honestly don't know how long it will end up being, so please hang in there with me. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sadly. I wish I could write like J.K. Rowling. I really wish I could.**_

"And here I thought you were the brightest witch of your age," he spat at me. "But this," he held up the piece of parchment in his hand, "proves otherwise."

I looked at him with an emotionless face, choosing to not back down from his confrontation. The room around us had dropped into a tangible silence; several people looked at me instead of Snape. "Were you that desperate?" He continued. "Do you even understand what this means?"

Everyone was looking at Severus and me, switching between us, with looks of utter confusion. Remus looked at me, a small smile of encouragement on his face. Ginny reached over and grabbed my hand under the table. I didn't respond to Snape's questions. I wasn't sure if my voice would be as emotionless as my face. He stared me down, trying to see if I would break before him. The silence stretched between us, his questions sitting in the air, waiting to be answered.

Arthur broke the silence. "Come now, Severus. What's the meaning of all this? Why don't you grab a plate from the cupboard and join us for dinner?"

Severus glanced at Arthur before he looked back at me. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, but his eyes remained icy. I squeezed Ginny's hand; she squeezed mine back. _I can do this_, I thought to myself. I lifted my eyebrows in response. "Thank you, Arthur," Severus responded curtly, "but I need to speak with Miss Granger."

Ginny squeezed my hand again before letting it go. I stood up slowly from my place at the table. I walked around the table towards Severus, keeping my head high. He didn't need the satisfaction of knowing just how scared I was of him in that moment. He stood unmoving, his body held in rigidity. I walked through the door, and he followed silently after me, shutting the door with precision behind him. I walked through the hall and up the flight of stairs into my room. He followed me in, and I turned around swiftly, trying to keep my bravery. He closed the door behind him, not taking his eyes off of me.

We stood there for a minute, assessing each other. He held out the letter in his hand. "I know what it says," I told him, putting as much force as I could into my voice. It came out firm but not harsh. He looked me over again.

"Then I am owed an explanation," he told me darkly, "especially of why the rest of the people downstairs do not know."

"They know I made my decision this morning," I spat back at him.

"Why didn't you tell them it was me?" He raised his voice slightly, just above a comfortable conversation volume. "Did your bravery leave you, little girl?"

I glared at him. "It's none of their business who I choose!" My voice rose to match his. "Why should I live with the awkwardness of that before I have even spoken to you? I'm not marrying them! I'm marrying you! Shouldn't I speak to you about everything before I announce to the world who I chose?" I balled my hands into fists at my sides.

"When did you plan on telling them? The day before you rush off to Hogwart's to begin your apprenticeship?" His voice grew even louder. I could feel him attempting to control himself, to make sure that he was coherent in his thinking.

"I'm going to tell them once we discuss it," I returned. I purposely kept my voice lower than his; of course, mine was still nearing a scream.

He paused for a moment, glaring darkly at me. "Why did you choose me?" He annunciated each word with absolute clarity.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked before I could call it back. "You're Headmaster of Hogwart's. You're Potions Master. You have an Order of Merlin First Class. I can become Slughorn's apprentice with minimal stress."

He raised his eyebrows. "Headmaster? Potions Master?" He spit the words out bitterly, his voice loud enough that I was sure the rest of the house could hear him. He pulled up his left sleeve. "How about Death Eater? The Dark Lord's favorite? The murderer of Albus Dumbledore?" He showed me his left forearm. The Dark Mark—bright green—seemed to glow against the paleness of his skin.

I recoiled automatically from the mark. He smirked in satisfaction. "Again, girl, you show your ignorance. You think only of the positives, ignoring entirely the things that are clearly a warning, no matter how many there are. "

I took a deep breath, lowering my voice. "The proposal is legally binding. There's nothing either of us can do about it."

His eyes narrowed. "Then why don't you tell me why you _really_ chose me, then?" He screamed at me.

"WHY DID I CHOOSE YOU?" My control broke; I screamed the question at him, all the anger and resentment unleashed in my voice.

"YES!"

"RESPECT!" I hurled the word at him, absolute venom in my voice.

He laughed bitterly. "BECAUSE THIS IS RESPECT!" His voice, despite its volume, was dripping with sarcasm. I glared at him.

I walked up to him, putting my face as close to his as I dared. I made sure my voice was at a normal volume before I spoke. "At least we care enough to fight. Any other man on my final list would have rolled over and submitted to me." I stared him down, putting all that I felt for him—as innocent as it was—into my eyes, willing him to see it; I didn't pause in my explanation. "You have done far more to be proud of than any other man I could have chosen. You are a man that has made difficult choices and has seen them through, no matter how painful. You have followed your passion." He began to interrupt, but I cut him off. "And, honestly, you're willing to call things as you see them, whether your perception is accurate or not." I pulled the list from my pocket. "No other guy on this list would be willing to do that." He reached out and took the list from my hand. He opened it, scanned it then looked at me again. His eyes were softer than I'd ever seen them. I continued, "_That's_ why I chose you. I knew I could respect you for choices made, even if I couldn't stand you as a person. A relationship has got to start somewhere. From what I've been told—and experienced —respect is a pretty good place to start from."

He was silent before me. His eyes bore into mine. I began to feel uncomfortable—something was beginning to slowly bubble in my chest. I had no name for it. Suddenly, he looked down at the list again. "Who was the last person aside from me?" His voice was much softer now, as if he was trying to be civil. He looked back up at me.

"Seamus Finnegan," I told him, my voice without emotion.

His eyes rose in surprise.

"Who were you expecting?" I asked, my voice as brittle as ice.

He looked back down at the list. "Weasley—Um, Ron—would have been my first guess, following quickly with Krum."

I snorted, stunned. "I haven't spoken to Viktor since fourth year. I could hardly marry someone I haven't even seen in almost four years. Besides, I wouldn't be able to stay in England. It would make becoming Slughorn's apprentice very difficult."

He said nothing—not even his body told me what he was thinking. No nod of the head, no shrug of the shoulders, no rising of the eyebrows. It was like talking to a wall. "And Ron…" I let out a heavy sigh. "Ron only offered the Ministry his name for me because he wanted to let me have an easy out. He's a wonderful young man, but he knows that picking him would not save me from misery. Why make two people miserable? At least now he has the chance at a happy marriage."

Snape's face remained emotionless, but I saw his eyes harden. "Are you saying that you have no problem making _me_ miserable?"

I held eye contact. "You already are, Professor," my voice had lost its strength; it came out in the smallest of whispers.

"My name is Severus, foolish girl," his voice snaked out of him with cold hatred. It felt as if he had slapped me.

I didn't apologize, though I should have. I stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out what was bubbling in my chest, when he folded up the list and put it in his pocket along with the letter from the Ministry. He sneered at me before turning around and walking swiftly through the doorway. I heard him go down the staircase.

Arthur's voice floated up to me. "Ah, Severus, is everything alright?"

I did not hear his reply, only the slamming of a door a moment later and a loud pop. He was gone. I stood there, feeling the cold move outward from the middle of my body, as if it had been waiting to overtake me again. The little hope I had felt before dinner quickly dissipated. In its wake, utmost despair. I felt as if I was sitting in the bottom of a hole, looking up in hope, only to find that it was too deep to ever escape.

After hours of trying to convince myself that I had made the right choice, I finally allowed myself to admit how rash I had been. Sure, I got to become an apprentice under Slughorn. Sure, I got to return to the school with which I had fallen in love. Sure, I was setting myself up for a future of success and of following my passion.

But I'd had to surrender the idea of a happy marriage—one built on mutual desire for the other. I'd had to surrender a pretty house in the countryside. I'd had to surrender the idea of ever being wanted by my spouse. I didn't think Snape would ever show me civility, much less affection.

My knees collapsed under me, and I fell without grace to the floor. I felt the tears begin to fall as I looked through my door into the empty hallway. There were no individual tears; there were too many stored from hours and days and months of emotional stress that I had buried to keep from going crazy. A solid wall of tears fell sideways down my face. I pressed the side of my face against the cold hardwood; it seemed to be the only thing that reminded me that all this was real.

I was to marry Snape. I knew not when, but I knew it would have to be soon. The school year would not be allowed to be disrupted for a wedding he didn't even want. A month. Six weeks at most. And then I would have to face living with him. The idea instantly revolted me. A shared bathroom and shared living room. My thoughts froze. A shared bed. The idea was so absurd. He wouldn't even say goodbye to me before leaving; how on Earth could I be expected to share a bed, however large, with him?

The sobs tore through my chest, escaping through my mouth at volumes that described only the worst of agonies. Vaguely, I heard someone coming up the stairs; multiple footsteps echoed off the hallway walls. I felt a cool hand press itself to my soaked cheek. It brushed my hair out of my face and gently wiped the tears away from my eyes. I heard the door close gently on inquiries coming up from the living room.

"Is she alright?" I heard Harry's voice ask.

"What was with Severus? I have never seen him act so strangely before," Arthur asked.

"What in the bloody hell did he do to her?" Ron's voice was the most outraged, but I couldn't understand why. I heard a baby's cry.

Another sob tore through me. I was beyond comprehensible thought. I was consumed by the emptiness in my chest and the hatred I felt towards everything that had happened in the last year. Curse Voldemort and this world he had caused to come into creation.

"You need to tell them, Hermione. They won't be able to help you if they don't know what's wrong," I heard Ginny whisper desperately into my ear. I shook my head, the tears coming down harder than ever. How could I tell them what had made me into this mess?

I heard the baby's cry grow steadily louder. I saw Tonks's feet standing at the threshold of my room. "Remus, we need to get Teddy home. It's long past his bedtime."

"I know," he whispered quietly. "Give me one moment." There was a pause. I felt a new hand touch my shoulder. "Hermione, I know that this is difficult for you right now. Would you be alright if I was to give the official news? Ginny will be able to keep people out of your room for the night. We can all deal with it anew in the morning."

I slowly nodded. Yes, better to have Ron and Harry hear it from Remus rather than from me. Remus would be better equipped to handle their questions. And at least it would give me a chance to convince myself yet again that I really had made the right choice.

He patted my shoulder a couple times in sympathy; a moment later I head two sets of footsteps heading back down to the living. Teddy's cries became distant again. I lay there on the floor, my cheek pressed into the cool floorboards that were now wet with my tears, trying to calm myself. I tried to keep my breathing quiet with limited success. I wanted to hear the reactions as Remus told the truth.

"Guys, can I get your attention, please?" Remus spoke over the chatter and crying baby. It instantly quieted, aside from Teddy. The child was insistent on going home. "Hermione's decided to spend the rest of the night preparing for the coming weeks. She has asked me to tell you the specifics of her decision concerning the marriage law."

"Finally," I heard Ron mutter.

"Do we get to know why Snape showed up unannounced?" George asked.

"And why he looked like his underpants had been hexed?" Fred added seriously.

"Oh hush!" I heard Mrs. Weasley quiet her sons.

"Come now, Fred," Angelina reproached her husband.

"I ask that you please refrain in your responses," Remus prefaced the news. Great. Now they knew it would be bad. "Hermione told me when I came to check on her at lunch the man she had chosen. She asked that I not share until they had a chance to discuss it between themselves." There was a pause.

"Well she obviously baled on that idea," Ron commented.

I could imagine the look on his face when he said it; a slight eye roll and a look off to Harry.

"Actually, she didn't." Remus let that sink in for a moment. "Hermione chose Severus Snape."

There was silence in the room below for a moment.

"WHAT THE—" Ron was cut off by Harry.

"NO FUCKING WAY!" He screamed.

Others joined in, annunciating their disapproval clearly with well chosen words.

"He must have hexed her!" George reasoned.

"Used a love potion!" Fred said in agony.

Ginny scrambled to the door and shut it quickly; It hit the doorframe with a ring of finality. She was shutting out those who didn't believe it would work. She muttered a spell, pulling out her wand. Immediately the noise that was bleeding in through the old floorboards disappeared. It was as if there were no cries of outrage ensuing in the living room below.

She ran back to me and gently helped me off the floor. "Forget them," she whispered to me as she cleaned off my face. She began gently brushing my hair. "Trust your instincts." Her hands deftly pulled my hair into a thick ponytail. She pulled some pajamas out of my dresser and helped me into them.

She played with my hair a little. "Get some rest. You'll need it." Slowly, she stood up and walked to the door. Before opening it, she looked back at me. "I've got your back, remember?"

I nodded slowly, trying to not cry again. I watched her open the door, slip into the hall, and then close it. The spell remained. Even when the door was open, I could not hear what was happening downstairs. I was suddenly very grateful for Ginny and the gift she had given me for the night.

I went to open the window so that Pumpkin could fly in whenever he decided to return. I caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were bright red; my face pink and puffy. It looked as if I had not slept for several nights.

Maybe Ginny _was_ right. Maybe this was the right decision. Maybe my instincts were to be followed.

That didn't change the reality, though. Tomorrow I would have to face everyone with them knowing the entire truth.

I was now officially engaged to Severus Snape.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. I'm thinking of uploading every Tuesday and Friday. So I'll upload Chapter Four tomorrow at some point, and then Chapter Five on Christmas. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

The next morning came too quickly. I went through my normal morning routine extra slow, trying to avoid the confrontations I knew were to come at breakfast. Despite breakfast usually being shared between Harry and me—and occasionally Kreacher—I knew from the few responses I heard the night before that I would not be so lucky this particular morning. I looked at the mirror above the dresser. I fixed the ponytail Ginny had done for me the night before and applied a tiny bit of muggle concealer to hide the puffiness left over under my eyes. I changed into the first outfit I grabbed, which turned out to be sweatpants and a blue, partially see-through tank that I normally used for cleaning or studying. I didn't care that morning though. I slipped a bra on before I put on the t-shirt. For the most part, you couldn't see the bra. That was good enough for me.

I tentatively opened the door and stepped into the hallway leading to the stairs. I heard minimal noise from the level below me—it sounded just like any other morning. Perhaps Remus had told everyone to give me some time to adjust before bombarding me with their insistent questions. Whatever had caused this, I was grateful. A quiet morning that resembled an average day in Grimmauld Place was really what I needed at the moment.

With light footsteps I carried myself down the flight of stairs into the living room. It was empty, which was common at this early hour. I continued to my right towards the kitchen. I paused at the door for a moment, trying to hear who was in there. It certainly was not Harry. I couldn't pinpoint the voice, so after a moment, I took a deep breath and opened the door with as much lightheartedness as I could muster in that moment.

Remus was there, speaking to Ginny. Harry had his arms wrapped lovingly around her; he rested his chin on her head as he listened intently to whatever Remus was saying. At the other end of the table, where he could be hidden from view and left out of any conversation, sat Severus Snape.

I collected what little courage remained in me and walked around the large table to the counter where bagels and jam had been laid out. To do so, I had to pass Severus. I bit the inside of my lip as I passed by him. I was scared for some possible, unexpected reaction. None came. I walked around him to the counter, grabbed a bagel, and put a minimal amount of raspberry jam on it before turning around. He hadn't even looked up. It was truly as if I was simply not in the room. I looked at him a moment more, then glanced over at the others. I decided to join their conversation—I would play Snape's little game. Even though I had no idea what game it was. Or how to play.

"Good morning," Ginny smiled at me warmly. Remus turned from his conversation to hug me gently.

"How was your sleep?" He asked me.

I shrugged noncommittally. "It could have been worse, I suppose."

I looked back at Ginny and found Harry staring intently at me. "Why?" He asked when I held his gaze.

"Because I had to make a decision." It wasn't really an answer, but I was tired of explaining myself. I knew Harry deserved a better answer from me. I really did. He raised one eyebrow. He knew I was hiding my real answer. I sighed. I tried to pretend that the man in question wasn't behind me, most likely staring me down with some evil glare. "Besides, now I can accept Slughorn's offer."

Recognition lit up Harry's eyes. He nodded, smiled, and then gave me a martyred look. Strange. He thought I was doing this as an act of martyrdom. Oh well. Perhaps it was better that he thought that this was my only motivation to marry Snape. No need to explain to him all the other factors. This one was enough.

"Speaking of your apprenticeship, Horace wants you at Hogwarts by the first. Apparently he wants to give you a chance to get used to everything before term begins," Snape's voice was ice cold and dripping with sarcasm. Nothing had changed, really. This was how I was treated while attending Hogwart's.

I turned around. "Then I suppose we should pick a date," I returned with equal iciness. He wouldn't treat me as if I was nothing. I wouldn't allow it. He didn't look at me, though.

He looked up at Remus. "Would you give us a few minutes?"

"Of course."

And the three of them left the kitchen, leaving me alone with Snape. Crap. He didn't immediately say anything, nor did he stand up from his place at the end of the table. I walked towards him but stopped about three chairs away. I sat down. I glued my eyes to the table. In so doing, I was reminded of the outfit I wore. I felt my cheeks warm slightly from embarrassment.

"I won't intrude on Ginny and Harry's wedding." I whispered.

He didn't say anything in response. There was a loud pop. I looked up for a moment. Remus must have left.

Returning my eyes to the table, I continued, speaking faster and even quieter, "So I guess that means that it needs to happen in the next week and a half. I want Ginny part of it. I want Ron and Harry there. It can be done at Hogwarts. Less traveling that needs to happen. I don't know who would be willing—"

"Stop," he snapped at me. "Stop being an irritating know-it-all."

I felt my cheeks get hot. I bit my lip, restraining an apology.

"I know that you want people involved." I looked up at him. He was looking at me, his eyes hard and dark. I involuntarily shivered. His eyebrows lowered. His eyes seemed to soften—but it was probably just a trick of the light. "If you would like to wait until August, I can speak to Horace about starting your apprenticeship later."

I openly gaped at him for a moment before realizing that I looked like a fool. I quickly hid the emotion—at least, I tried. I wasn't completely successful. I cleared my throat. "I can make a week and a half work. I just want a proper dress. And the people I want to be there."

He nodded. His lips moved as if he was speaking, but no sound left his lips. It occurred to me that he was probably speaking under his breath, thinking aloud or something. "The fourteenth would be the latest."

The fourteenth? Inside my head, I panicked. My breath came a little faster. The fourteenth? That was only five days! I mean, that was this Saturday. How did he expect me to be ready to marry him in five _fucking_ days?

Half of his mouth shot up in a snide smile. Sadistic asshole. I made sure my panic didn't come through in my voice. "Fine," I said, my voice hard. "I will see if Ginny would like to go to Diagon Alley today. I can get the things needed."

"We'll have it at Hogwart's. Remus," he scowled, "can officiate."

I stood up to go see if Ginny could come with me. "Don't make it a _lot_ of people, Granger."

"That's not really your choice, sir, since I'm the one paying." And I walked out of the kitchen, closing the kitchen door gently behind me. Stupid marriage law. Stupid Ministry of Magic. Stupid Voldermort. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. This wouldn't even be happening if I wasn't muggleborn. How infuriating.

Ginny was sitting on Harry's lap in the living room. She didn't actually live here—Mrs. Weasley would have a heart attack. But she was over enough that it really felt like she was. They were picking out something for the wedding when I walked in.

Ginny looked up from the choices on her lap. "Well?"

"I need help shopping," I answered. She didn't hesitate in picking up the color samples in her lap and handing them to Harry.

"Pick between these four," she instructed him. "I'll be happy with any of them." She looked back at me. "Let me grab my cloak really fast, and I'll be ready."

I nodded. I was about to walk with her to retrieve mine, when a glance down reminded me of my outfit. It was certainly inappropriate for shopping—especially for the items I would be purchasing. I turned the opposite direction and headed for my room.

"I need to change, and then I'll be ready as well."

I hurried up the stairs to my room. I picked out a pastel yellow summer dress that had a large floral print down one side. I pulled a white long-sleeved cardigan out of the closet and put it on. I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time.

Unsatisfied with what the reflection showed me, I dug out my muggle make-up and deftly applied a light brown shadow to my lids and black eyeliner along my bottom lash line and half of my top lash line. This placated me, so I hurried back down the stairs after grabbing my wand hastily from where it lay on top of my trunk.

I walked into the main hallway and grabbed my small purse. I opened it to make sure I had both muggle and wizarding currency. Not everything I wanted was available easily in the wizarding world.

"Ready?" Ginny asked me as she came out of the living room. I nodded in response. She smiled and took my hand. "Let's go then. That's a really cute dress, by the way."

"Thanks," I smiled. This was definitely what I needed.

"What do you think of this one?" I asked, coming out of the dressing room in a white summer dress. We were in a muggle store, so there wasn't anything fancy on it.

_**LATER**_

"Ooooo," I heard Ginny mutter. "This one is really pretty."

"You think so?" I asked as I turned to face the three-way mirror in the lobby of the dressing room area. The dress was simple: two layers of thin white fabric—just enough to keep it from being see-through—small spaghetti straps that attached to a sweetheart neckline, a fairly open back—I would need a different bra—with the waistline hitting just under my bust. It made me look a lot taller than I actually was. Despite its short length and low neck line, it radiated an idea of innocence.

I smiled at the irony. My—I cringed—fiancée was really the exact opposite of me. I was innocent, virginal status and all; he had seen things I could not even imagine. If white was innocence, then he should wear the darkest black.

I twirled around again, looking at the back of the dress. It was cute _really_ low in the back. "Is this too much in the back?" I asked Ginny.

She walked up to me and played with the straps a little. "A little bit. I can tailor it, though, when we get back. Probably just an inch and it should be fine. It'll help the front, too." I blushed a little bit.

I played with the skirt a little, then remembered something when I glanced at my left arm. "We should find a cardigan."

Ginny's eyes pulled down in confusion. "It's an easy tailor fix. I don't mind doing it, Hermione."

"I know it is. I definitely want you to do it." I told her. I lowered my voice. "The cardigan is for the _other_ thing."

Her eyes lit with recognition. "Right. I totally forgot about that. Let me go grab a couple options. What color would you like?"

I twirled part of the skirt around my fingers. "White." I told her. Then I had an idea. "Or blue." She nodded and walked away. One corner of my mouth pulled up in a smile. Muggle traditions. How ironic.

She returned a few minutes later with four options. I only really liked two. One was a pale blue and the other was white. I tried the white one first. The sleeves reached to my wrists, and the fabric was very light, almost sheer. It didn't match the white of the dress, though, and I didn't like that. The fabrics were different, too, though that didn't bother me as much. I looked down at my left arm. You couldn't really tell _it_ was there if you were just looking briefly at it. But he would be right there, about the same distance from my arm as I was right now. If he looked at my arm for any longer than a second, he would see that something was there.

I took it off and tried on the blue one. It was made of a thicker fabric, but it also reached to the wrists. It reached only to the empire waist of the dress, but it had three buttons that could be used to cover whatever Ginny wouldn't be able to hide. The backside was made of lace—it was like this cutout thing that then attached to the thicker fabric on the sides, just under the armpit. I looked down at my arm again and was pleased to find that you couldn't see anything. Exactly what I wanted.

I looked back up at my reflection. I was taken aback by how much I enjoyed the outfit. It spoke of summer and innocence and femininity. My grin lit up my face. Ginny smiled, too. "This is it?" She asked me.

"Definitely," I answered happily. It only took three stores and countless dresses, but I had found the perfect outfit for…for Saturday. I returned to the dressing room and changed back into my outfit.

Ginny took the dress and cardigan from me; I grabbed the other bags from various other stores. We walked to the register. She had enough common sense to not ogle at all the muggle technology. Thank goodness. I paid the young woman, then took the bag and walked out into the warm early evening July air. We walked into the back alley, both silent. "How accurate is your apparating?" I asked her.

"I can get to Grimmauld just fine nowadays." She grinned. "I've had lots of practice in the last few weeks." I grinned with her. A small laugh even escaped from my lips.

"Then I'll just tag along with you, then." I readjusted the bags, then lightly grabbed her left elbow. We turned at the same time.

The familiar squeezing sensation overcame me. Just when it got to be overwhelmingly uncomfortable, it lessened, and then we were standing on the front stoop of 12 Grimmauld Place. I smiled at her. "Well done!" She blushed a little.

She reached for the doorknob, but it opened before she could get there. Harry, dressed in loose fitting shorts and a wife beater, stood in the doorway. "Took you guys forever," he muttered, moving out of the way so that we could come in.

Ginny laughed. "Shopping is the only time us females can escape you guys. Give us a break." Harry smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Maybe some of us guys enjoy being with you females all the time." He ducked in for a kiss.

Part of me felt nauseous, knowing that my relationship would never look like that. But I decided to ignore that part. I focused instead on the rest of me.

"You obviously have never been around when she's on her period," I muttered, ducking past them to put the bags of stuff in my room. Ginny lightly slapped my arm, laughing brightly.

"This is true," she told Harry.

I walked quickly up the stairs, putting the bags just inside the door to my room. I gently shut it and returned downstairs. We had spent the entire day shopping. Not that I was complaining. A day with Ginny looking at shoes and necklaces and dresses and party favors is exactly what I needed. But when I stepped off of the bottom step to find the living room suddenly very full with various people—including every Weasley and Professor McGonagall—I realized that Ginny and I hadn't stopped for lunch at all that day.

I was even more eager for dinner now. With determination, I headed straight for the kitchen. "Just in time!" Remus said as I opened the door. "We were just about to let everyone know that dinner is ready."

It was as if his voice had projected throughout the house. A steady stream of people entered the kitchen now, sitting down at various places around the table. I chose a seat next to Ginny, like always. The seat next to me remained unclaimed though. As the first dishes were being passed around, I realized with chagrin why it had been left so.

Severus came in and sat down next to me. He didn't say a word to me. He took a serving of vegetables, then passed the serving bowl to me. He didn't even look at me.

I saw Ginny pull something out of a bag at her feet. I gulped convulsively. They were the invitations we had purchased at the first store early this morning. She held one in her hand, then passed the stack to Harry. He didn't take one. Instead, he handed the stack to Ron beside him. Ron took one. And so they continued around the table, until Professor McGonagall, who was sitting next to Snape, received the final one.

Those sly little bastards.

Aside from this, dinner passed uneventfully. Snape continued with his streak of not speaking with me. No one asked me questions regarding my choice, and when I told them that I was going to bed, no one gave me a hard time.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Sorry that I'm posting this a little late. It's shorter than previous chapters, but I needed to make it this length for pacing. If I hadn't cut it short, it would've ended up being about 7000 words... Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I will post the wedding on Christmas. Thank you all so much!**_

The next few days were filled to the brim with planning and preparation. Mrs. Weasley, along with Tonks and Angelina, helped by creating the menu: a simple lunch that included three different types of sandwiches, lemonade, and tea. Ginny and I went out shopping again to find her dress. We ended up choosing a dress that was a pale green with a floral print along the hem of the skirt. It had thin straps and a natural waist. It was a good escape from everything going on back at Grimmauld Place.

So Tuesday was spent shopping with Ginny again. Wednesday was spent putting together decorations and figuring out where at Hogwart's _it_ would happen. That warranted an interesting discussion of sorts between Snape and me.

"_There isn't enough room in your office for everyone," I told him, shooting down his suggestion._

_He glared at me. "Well that wouldn't be a problem if you hadn't invited so many people."_

"_Twenty people hardly constitute a lot of people."_

_He glared at me. I bit my lip. Respect. That's why I chose him. Find something right now I can respect him for. _

"_Thank you for letting me have a proper wedding," I muttered, not looking at him. _

_There was a pause. "You're welcome," he told me gently. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak without ice in his voice. There was another pause. I looked up at him and found his eyes looking over me in consideration. "We can have it in the Professors' Courtyard. It's in full bloom right now, and it's just big enough to accommodate the amount of _guests_—" His mouth turned up in a sneer._

"_Thank you," I told him quickly, not wanting to warrant his anger, and returned to the living room to continue work on the decorations. It was the first time we had been somewhat civil to each other. I rather hoped that it would last. _

Thursday was spent shopping _again_ at Diagon Alley for books and supplies I needed for my apprenticeship and deciding what kind of food to make. That left Friday to pack everything.

I knew that I didn't have a lot of time to pack everything. It had been decided the previous night that all my stuff would be moved tonight so that it would be one less thing to worry about on Saturday. That only left me a few hours to clean out the dresser, the closet, and the bookcases. _It'll be alright_, I told myself halfheartedly._ It'll give you just enough time alone to process things._ I scoffed at the idea. How did you fully process something of this magnitude? Hell, part of me was still in shock, and—I gulped compulsively—the wedding was tomorrow afternoon. I walked over to the dresser and began to pull clothes from the topmost drawers.

I found my mind wandering, mulling over things while I, with utmost organization, placed everything in my trunk. Tomorrow I would be a married woman. A shiver went down my spine at the idea. What would it be like? There was only one other couple that was married at our age—it had been forced like mine—but I had never bothered to keep in touch with them. I mean, it was Draco Malfoy for crying out loud. I didn't want anything to do with that man. Now I found myself wishing that I had, at the very least, kept in touch with his wife, Susan Bones. I thought back, trying to remember when they had gotten married. They were one of the first couples that came from the Law—four months? Maybe five.I wondered how their particular relationship had developed. Had Draco ever gotten off his high horse? Or did Susan just let him dominate the relationship? My hands methodically emptied the dresser. I moved on to the closet, pulling out dresses and cloaks and robes and shoes.

I could see how their relationship could eventually be something pretty functional. They could probably even grow to be content with each other. But to get there, there had to be some pretty big compromises on both sides. Draco would need to learn how to appreciate Susan for her strengths—and get over the idea that muggleborns were simply dirt beneath his feet. But Susan couldn't be mean and isolated back. That would only feed his idea about muggleborns. I paused my packing for a moment. Huh. Maybe… I packed the last dress then sighed in frustration. I was out of room in my trunk, and I hadn't even gotten to the bookcases yet.

I grabbed my wand off the top of the dresser. I flicked it towards the trunk and smiled in satisfaction when I saw the clothes drop a foot lower. Just like that purse so long ago. I looked at the bookcases standing next to each other, facing the door to the hall. The books were already organized by subject matter and then alphabetized within that by author; all I needed to do was transfer each group of books into the trunk so that they wouldn't get mixed together. With another flick of my wand, I moved the trunk closer to the bookcases. I started with the generic books of spells from my time at Hogwart's. I placed each book in the trunk, making sure it was facing the right direction so that unpacking would be an expedient process the following day.

I returned to my previous line of thinking. Draco was much less tainted than Severus, though both arms were irrevocably marked the same. I knew, logically, that Susan treating Draco as a monster—like the Death Eater he once was—would only push Draco further into isolation and hatred. So, logically, if I were to do the same with Severus, he would only retract further, treating me each time as more of a stranger. I had no hope of one day seeing the Severus that lay behind all the defenses if I continued to be cold and bereft with him.

I reminded myself of why I had chosen him above Seamus. It wasn't because it would be an easier marriage. Hell, I had just signed myself into one hell of a roller coaster ride for the rest of my life. No, it hadn't been because it would be easy. It had been because, at the end of the day, I would be way more proud of Severus than Seamus. It was easier to appreciate Severus because of his sacrifices. Appreciation was good. That's where I would focus myself within the relationship. Even if he never appreciated me, I would do my best to make sure he knew that I appreciated him.

Absentmindedly, I reached for the last book of the first bookcase and found that it was being handed to me. I jumped slightly. "You never used to be so unobservant." His voice had returned to that detached iciness.

I chanced a glance up at him as I took the book from his hand. "Most people knock," I told him quietly. He didn't say anything but did grab the first book on the second bookshelf. "Thank you," I murmured.

He remained silent. I chewed the inside of my cheek in anxiety. Appreciation. Respect.

Damn it. How the hell was I actually going to do this? Maybe I would write Susan a letter. Ask her how everything was going. Maybe I could talk to her about how she deals with someone that's seen and done things I can't even imagine. Or rather, chose not to imagine. I had been victim of some of the atrocities.

Without thinking, I touched my left forearm. "Why do you always do that?" He asked me critically.

I immediately withdrew my hand, grabbing the book in his hand. I didn't offer him an answer.

"You never did it while at Hogwart's," he pointed out. Great. This is not the thing I wanted to discuss before I was even married to him. He might be comfortable showing his scar, but I definitely was _not_ comfortable showing—or discussing—mine. Some wounds took longer to heal than others. Even though the physical wound and healed and scarred over nearly eighteen months before, the emotional and mental wounds remain fairly raw. I could remember the instant as if it had just happened. "What happened?"

I bit my lip. There were just some things you didn't tell someone you were still trying to impress. "Nothing against you, but I'm really not comfortable discussing it." I made sure my voice didn't harden.

That didn't stop his eyes from hardening. I could practically feel him recoil back behind his defensive walls. Son of a bitch.

"Sorry," I muttered, hastily placing the last few books into the trunk before closing it. I stood up, flicking my wand, making the trunk levitate behind me. I moved it into the hallway before setting it back down on the ground.

"You are willing to marry me, and yet you are not willing to explain why you don't wear short sleeves anymore," his accusation was filled with bitterness.

I turned around to face him. He had stood up and was adjusting his own sleeves. "It's no different than why you wear long sleeves," I told him honestly. He looked up from his hand that was playing with the cuff of his left sleeve. His eyes were still hard, brittle, and the deepest black.

"You are ashamed of what's there?" He asked.

I nodded. "Well, yeah. It's not like I chose for it to be put there." I walked towards him. "I haven't gotten to the point where I'm willing to let people see." I looked into his blacker than black eyes. "Not even Ron, Harry, or Ginny has seen it. Some things you hide in hopes that the wounds will heal."

I watched his eyes slowly thaw out in front of me. "I can understand that," he offered. "I'm…" he paused. "I won't push it anymore."

I nodded, shuffling uneasily. I suddenly felt very awkward. He cleared his throat. "I'll take your trunk tonight." Again, it was as if I could physically feel him pulling himself just enough to the side of his walls that I could see him. Just a little. "Did you leave enough clothes for tomorrow?" His question surprised me. In fact, I hadn't. Damn it.

"I can borrow some of Ginny's while I get ready," I answered. My eyes fixed themselves on his hands. Tomorrow, there would be a ring there. How strange. My thoughts wandered, trying to find something to think about other than the anxiety eating through my stomach. They fixated on the sudden kindness. "Why are you suddenly being so kind?" The question was asked before I could command my mouth to be silent. Shit.

He withdrew again, but his eyes didn't harden. He sighed, playing again with the cuffs of his sleeves. Maybe it was a nervous habit of his. "I've been thinking of what you told me when I asked why you had chosen me. Of all the men I know offered themselves for you, why the _hell_ would you choose me? And you said it was because of respect." He paused. "There are things that I truly regret. I fucked up the first chance I was given. I don't want this one to be fucked, too."

His honesty surprised me. I had no response. "Oh," I managed to stammer.

He sneered at me. "Old habits die hard, though. Don't test me." His warning sent a chill through my bones. He pulled out his wand, flicking it towards my trunk. It rose of the ground. Without another word, he left my room, the trunk following behind him like an obedient pet.

"Thank you, Severus," I called after him. There, of course, was no reply.

I looked out at the empty hallway for a moment before turning off the light, shutting the door quietly and opening the window in expectation of Pumpkin's nightly arrival. With easy steps I walked to my bed, deftly taking off my bra and falling into the familiar softness. Tomorrow I would be married to a man that was nothing like me. I thought over the unexpected conversation. He had tried to be open. I had tried to be considerate, appreciative. It would take a lot of work; a lot of tearing down walls and learning how to be open. It would take learning how to be vulnerable with him. I knew he would need to learn all this, too. I didn't know if he would. I thought again of what he told me. He didn't want to fuck this up. He'd already done that with someone else.

For a moment I tried to figure out who he was talking about. I couldn't come up with a name, so I moved on. He didn't want to fuck this up like he had done before. Maybe that meant he would be more willing to change, to figure out how to make a marriage work. He had certainly tried to be civil tonight. I imagined how strange it must have felt for him, being considerate to me when all I did was irritate him.

Maybe. Maybe there was a possibility that this marriage could work. Maybe…maybe there was even a chance that we could learn to be happy.

And maybe, someday, we could even learn to be in love.

With that as my final thought, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to find the window displaying the colors that came at the beginning of a sunrise. It was the fourteenth of July. In approximately seven hours, I would be a married woman. I took a deep breath. A knock sounded on my door. _Here we go_, I thought.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: This chapter is WAY longer than the previous ones! I just didn't want to split up any of the wedding. Please let me know what you think about it. **_

_**Also, I hope you all have had a wonderful Christmas. Hopefully this is a nice little present. :) Enjoy!**_

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice was quiet. I saw the door crack open the smallest amount.

"I'm up," I told her quickly.

"Oh, I didn't come to wake you up," she poked her head into a small opening of my door. "It just sounded like you were up, so I came upstairs to see if you were."

I bit the inside of my cheek. The flashbacks were getting loud again. Crap. I mean, that tended to happen under times of pretty intense stress, but normally they came when I was alone—not when there were who knows how many wizards and witches who might hear my hysterics.

Slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. "Well, I am. What needs to be done first?" Best way to shake myself of the flashback was to get moving on the plans for today.

To my surprise, I found Ginny shaking her head. "Nothing needs to be done yet. We still have plenty of time. Why don't you try to sleep some more?"

I bit my cheek harder. "Alright." She shut the door quietly. I lay on my side, looking out the window. Only a few more hours. Strangely, I didn't feel overwhelmed. I felt nervous, definitely, even a little excited. But mostly I felt nothing. I practically willed myself back to sleep. After a while, I finally managed.

_**Later**_

I interrupted a vivid discussion between Harry and Ron when I walked into the kitchen timidly after my normal morning routine—shower, brushing teeth, brushing hair, cleaning my face.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked, curious. I had been expecting a large quantity of people to make an appearance at Grimmauld before heading to Hogwart's. I grabbed a blueberry bagel from the counter and put the smallest amount of cream cheese on it.

"Oh, we told them that we wanted one last breakfast with you," Ron said bluntly. He made it sound like I was heading off to my death.

"Yeah. I mean, after today, you won't just be our friend anymore. You'll have commitments and projects and assignments." That made it seem like I was just accepting a new job. I could live with that. "We wanted one last time to sit around, just us," Harry added.

"No one argued with us when we put it that way," Ginny concluded, walking into the kitchen easily, a couple bags in her hands.

Gratitude swelled in my chest. "Thanks," I told them earnestly. "This is…" I searched for the right words. How did I tell them just how much I needed what they had given me this morning? A few hours just to collect myself and remember why I was doing this; remember why this had been required at all. "It's exactly what I needed."

Ron grinned at me. Ginny smiled and touched my arm lightly before setting the bags lightly on the table. Harry nodded. It was silent for a moment, and then Ron and Harry resumed their discussion. Turns out it was about Quidditch. Since I had nothing to add, I turned to look at Ginny, who was lovingly tucked under Harry's arm.

"How are you holding up?"

I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. "Part of me feels like I'm having my final meal." Her mouth turned down, her eyes pulling together in a look of concern.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I pulled up one side of my mouth in a mock smile. "It's alright, I suppose. I love Hogwart's. I'm glad I get to go back." I ate some of my bagel. Something occurred to me. "What's the timeline for today?"

"We need to have you at Hogwart's in about fifteen minutes so that we can put you together for the ceremony."

So soon? "What time is it?" I asked.

"It's almost ten," Ginny answered.

Ten? Why did they let sleep in that much?

"You didn't finish packing until well after midnight," Ginny explained quickly, noticing the confusion on my face. "We wanted to give you a chance to really sleep."

"Not to mention that you woke up around three and again at sunrise," Harry added. He looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm assuming it was to let Pumpkin in and then out of habit, respectively."

I carefully kept my face blank. I remembered waking up; I didn't know it had been that late at night. It wasn't to let Pumpkin in, though. By the time I woke up the first time, he had already tucked himself into his cage and was sleeping peacefully. I awoke both times from a horrible nightmare—well, more like a flashback. I was back at that awful mansion, being questioned by that horrible witch, the letters being slowly etched into my arm. A shiver went down my spine. I pulled myself back into the present.

"Oh, well, thanks," I thanked them hastily. In silence, I finished the rest of my bagel, listening to Harry and Ron's conversation, trying to distract myself from the anxiety that had begun to eat at the bottom of my stomach. But I didn't know what they were talking about. I ended up just standing there, fidgeting nervously, trying—without success—to not count down the minutes to when we would be leaving. Ten minutes. Nine minutes. Eight minutes. Seven minutes.

Ginny gave me a sympathetic look. "Sorry," she whispered. She looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, if we get there now, we will only be about five minutes early. That shouldn't be a problem." I bit my lip. Slowly, I nodded.

Harry and Ron grabbed the bags that Ginny had placed on the table and walked into the hallway. Ginny held out her hand. I took it, realizing belatedly that my own was shaking. Dang it. She squeezed it reassuringly. We followed the boys into the hallway and then out the front door. Harry took Ginny's other hand; Ron took mine. Harry counted. "One. Two" I took a deep breath. "Three." I turned sharply to the left. The tightness surrounded me again for a few moments. I closed my eyes.

The tightness released. I timidly opened my eyes. The gates of Hogwart's that led to Hogsmeade stood intimidatingly before me. Harry walked forward, motioning with his wand and murmuring something. He still had a bag in his hand. The gates swung forward easily, lazily.

We strode across the grounds that we had all grown to love together, our strides matching. We reached the front steps and strode easily into the Entrance Hall. Harry led us down a hallway that I knew that the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower. He stopped at a door located discreetly at the end of the hallway, just before the staircase. He knocked once, then handed his bag to Ginny. Ron handed his to me. He hugged me tightly. Harry followed suit. Then they both walked off, just as Professor McGonagall opened the door.

"Ah, Hermione and Ginny. Come in," she ushered us into her private quarters. "It's a good thing you're a few minutes early. I need to go help with the preparations outside. I will let Tonks know that you are here." And with that, she walked briskly out the door and down the remainder of the hallway, assumedly to the door at the back of the staircase that led to the Professors' Courtyard.

I gulped and chewed on my lip. Ginny took my bag, led me to the bedroom, and closed the door. She pulled my dress out of one of the bags, waving her wand over it to remove the wrinkles. "Don't think about anything," she encouraged. I did my best to follow her advice, ignoring the insistent sounds of people walking past the door to the office.

_**Later**_

Tonks led me to a mirror in the study just as Ginny rushed out of the bedroom, her dress swaying with her movements. "Only a few more minutes," she warned Tonks. My breathing quickened, but I forced it to slow.

I looked in the mirror; I was left speechless. My hair had been done into a loose, messy bun. Soft curls cascaded around my face, mingling with my bangs. Mascara and eyeliner brightened my eyes and made them look larger than they actually were. The cardigan was unbuttoned, but I preferred it like that. Ginny had tailored the straps about two inches. The deep neckline had thus become only a regular sweetheart one. I turned to the side, looking at the back. You could now only see to the bottom of my shoulder blades, which was exactly where the cardigan stopped. It was like the two had been designed together. The plain white flats added an air of simplicity to the outfit. If someone looked at me and didn't know what was going on, they might think I was just going to lunch with a close friend or family member. Nervously, I played with the edge of the sleeves, checking to see how easily it would be to move them; I was pleased to find that they hardly moved.

There was a light knock on the door. No one moved to answer it. I bit my lip. It was Remus letting us know that it was time. I heard his footsteps fade away. Tonks stepped in front of me and turned around. "I need to go sit down," she said. "You look absolutely stunning. Don't forget that." Then she leaned forward and hugged me. After handing me the bouquet of flowers that rested on the office's desk, she quickly walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Her footsteps faded quickly. I took a deep breath.

Just as I was about to walk to the door, I heard another set of footsteps. They were more precise, more deliberate in their sound. It seemed as if they were being loud for the sole purpose of making sure I heard them; or perhaps Severus always walked with that amount of presence. I froze. My chest began to tighten, and I gasped for air. Ginny pressed her hand into the small of my back.

She didn't say anything. Slowly, the anxiety lowered itself again to a normal level. My breathing returned to normal. She opened the door and led me quietly to the edge of the staircase. She made sure to keep me out of sight of the windows that lined the back wall. She turned around just before opening the door to the courtyard. "I love you," she told me, tears in her eyes. And then she embraced me. I had enough thought to move the flowers so that they wouldn't get crumpled. I rested my head on her shoulder for a moment before pulling away. I looked at her and laughed.

"Holy shit. I'm getting married," I told her. She laughed with me for a few minutes. Then, with an air of finality, she opened the door and walked easily through it. I stepped into the threshold, but resisted from walking over it. We had played a recording of the music at Grimmauld so that I would know with certainty when to start walking. It felt strange, walking by myself. The music was just about to my queue when Harry appeared around the corner and held out his arm. He grinned when I walked forward and placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

"You deserve to have someone walk you down," he murmured into my ear. I grinned at him. And then we were walking. We turned the corner. I tried to take in the scene before me as fully as possible. Around twenty people sat on either side of the aisle in white chairs. I saw the Weasleys, each of them standing as they saw me. Bill was holding Fleur's hand. Charlie and George were looking on with unreadable expressions. Fred had an arm wrapped around Angelina. Ron sat in the front row. When he saw me looking at him, he grinned. I grinned back. With a glance to the other side of the aisle, I saw Tonks smiling warmly at me, Teddy asleep in her arms. I saw Ginny smiling at me, tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over and ruin her own makeup.

Mentally, I took a deep breath, and then looked directly down the aisle. I hardly noticed Remus standing in the middle, dressed modestly in a black suit. My entire focus was on Severus. He was dressed in formal black dress robes very similar to those he wore when teaching. These, I could tell even from a distance, were made of a richer material; they seemed to shine in the sunlight. I could feel my breathing threaten to become erratic again. I forced it to remain steady—it allowed me something to focus on. The music led me forward, Harry walking next to me, keeping a strong grip on the hand on his arm, until I was standing in front of Remus.

Harry, in silence and without any queue from Remus or Severus, held out my hand and placed it gently into Severus's. I stepped forward timidly; Ginny took the bouquet from my hand. He then took my other hand, turning me to face him directly.

I didn't notice Remus's first words. I was too focused on the man in front of me. His hands were calloused from years of potion making; I couldn't resist running my thumb over the back of his hand. His eyes were trained on me. They seemed to penetrate me with an unseen intensity; yet, they were unreadable. His mouth opened, and he spoke with a softness I had never heard from him before. "I, Severus, take you, Hermione, as my wife." He paused. It occurred to me that these were the same vows as those said at muggle weddings…and that Remus, like any good officiant, was feeding Severus the lines. "To have and to hold. For better or for worse." His hands tightened around mine. "For richer. For poorer. To love. To cherish." He squeezed my hands tightly. "For as long as we both shall live." Severus then took the ring from Remus and placed it gently on my finger, sliding it into place.

I felt Remus turn towards me, but I didn't look away from Severus. I bit my lip as Remus fed me the first line. "I, Hermione, take you, Severus," I stumbled over his first name, "as my husband." I took a breath. "To have and to hold." Another breath. "For better or for worse. For richer." My breath came out in a breathy sigh. I struggled to remain calm. "For poorer." I stopped again, trying to find my breath. I felt him squeeze my hands. I bit my lip, looking at him intently. He squeezed my hands again, brushing his thumb lightly over my hand. I took a deep breath. "To love. To cherish." I squeezed his hands back. In that moment, I could definitely see myself falling in love with this man…someday. "For as long as we both shall live." And then I took the ring from Remus and slid it gently onto Severus's calloused hand.

Remus didn't say anything else; he merely nodded at Severus. Severus, in turn, released my hands. I let them fall to my sides. With utmost care, he raised his hands to my neck, where he gingerly placed them before leaning in slowly—so slowly—and kissed me. I raised my hand and placed it lightly on his elbow. Unsure of myself, I timidly kissed him back. After only a moment, he pulled away from me and dropped his hands from my neck. It was brief, and yet I found myself savoring the softness of his lips and the woodsy taste they carried.

I registered the clapping from the small audience. And then people were crowding me; I saw Severus sneak away and sit at a table underneath the only tree in the courtyard. There were only two place settings, but when I looked around, I found a few other tables laid out for five people each. Severus pulled out his wand and a few moments later, a book dropped into his hands.

"Congratulations!" Mrs. Weasley was the first to reach me. She pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged her back; I saw, over her shoulder, Mr. Weasley standing a few feet behind. He nodded, a small smile on his face.

Various people came up to me and congratulated me with large smiles on their faces—but I could see the reservations in their eyes. No one was happy that _this _marriage had happened. They were just trying to support me. Eventually, I heard Tonks announce that it was time to eat. I found her eyes, and when she looked at me, I mouthed 'Thank you.' Her announcement had managed to disperse the group that had formed around me. It gave me a chance to breathe before turning and sitting at the same table as Severus.

I sat down slowly, doing my best to keep my nerves on the inside where they wouldn't bother anything except my stomach. Severus set down his book as the plate containing the sandwiches for our table glided easily through the air and arrived at our table. He grabbed it, breaking the enchantment, and placed it between us. Without a word, he grabbed two of the sandwiches and placed them on his plate. He took a bite of one.

I took one sandwich, taking a small bite before placing it on my own plate. The nerves were so bad that I felt nauseous. My hands played with the hem of my skirt. My eyes stayed glued on my fingers as I twirled the fabric around them repeatedly. I could feel a flashback fluttering on the edges of my mind, threatening to pull me under and put me into a panic attack. I noticed how much my hands were shaking.

"You look stunning," he complimented quietly. I looked up at him. He was staring at me intently; the book was gone, along with the sandwiches he had taken. He reached forward and grabbed another couple of sandwiches.

"Thank you," I murmured, looking back down at my frantic hands. He didn't say anything else, and I didn't try to start a conversation. I was more focused on not having a panic attack. The minutes passed. I left my sandwich on my plate; I lacked any form of appetite. I didn't know how long it had been—several minutes at least—but before long I heard music beginning to play. I looked over my shoulder and saw Remus taking Tonks lovingly into his arms. They circled slowly. Harry and Ginny, though, danced faster. I watched for several moments.

Then Remus winked at me, and I found Severus standing just to the left of in front of me. He offered me his hand. I looked up at him. His eyebrows rose when I didn't immediately respond. With a deep breath, I took his hand and stood up. He walked slowly to where the others were dancing. With absolute precision, he placed his hands on my hips, just below my natural waist. I place my hands on his shoulders. The fabric was exquisite to the touch—soft, silky smooth, probably silk. I bit my lip.

"Relax," he whispered into my ear. And then he began to move, his feet moving slowly. I smiled a little; he was being the gentlemen—albeit a distant one—in the hopes of making me feel more comfortable. He turned us in slow circles, neither of us saying something. Instead, I just looked into his eyes. This man had just married me. The ring on my left hand that was sparkling in the light was the physical proof.

I took this time of mutual silence to just look over him. Not to seek out imperfections, but to find things that I enjoyed, little things that I could smile about when things got difficult—because I knew they would. His jawline was narrow but prominent. I found that I liked that. Despite his work that required more mental strength than physical, I found that his muscles were hard and lean. Perhaps it was the fabric of his robes, but his shoulder muscles were smooth underneath my hands. His eyes were the richest obsidian; having such depth that as I looked into them, I felt part of me would be sucked in and would not come back out. I wasn't sure if I was alright with that. Restraining a small shiver, I focused on his hands. I knew from earlier that they were calloused from years of work with potions. Would my hands become like that? I noted that they were soft on my waist; he did not hold me tightly or possessively. They only rested lightly on the top of my hip bones.

We stayed there for a long time; other people around us faded in and out, taking breaks to talk and sit or switching partners occasionally. No one interrupted us. The sun, I noticed after a while, was in the opposite side of the sky. It was probably late afternoon, heading towards evening. Something came back up in my mind.

"So do I get to know why you put your name down for my list?" I asked lightly, making sure to look in his eyes. The eyes that hardened in front of me. He stopped turning us.

"What does it matter?" His voice had become distant again.

I shrugged. "I told you why I picked you. I think it's only fair that I know why you were on the list at all. I mean, it's not like we were on speaking terms or anything before, like, four days ago."

He squeezed my hips for a moment, then looked down in surprise and dropped his hands, as if he had forgotten they were there. He fisted them before looking back up at me. "I was required to select at least one muggleborn witch. I picked the one name I was sure wouldn't choose me. Eventually, I would be willing to pick someone who might choose me, but I needed time to accept the idea." It was as If he were lecturing in his dungeons, not talking to his wife. This was going to get very frustrating.

"Practicality," I summed up his response.

"Yes," he said. "But it didn't quite work, did it?" He sneered at me. I stepped away from him. My eyes threatened tears. Why should I be hurt over this? That was the same reason George and Harry put themselves only on my list—it would give them enough time to get married without risk of someone else screwing everything up.

He stepped with me, putting his hands back on my waist. "You asked. It doesn't matter why I chose your name." He paused, looking at me intently for a moment. His eyes were somewhere between being soft and hard. I couldn't decide what emotion they held. "Now It seems the best road forward is to focus on this moment."

I bit my lip. That made sense. It really didn't matter why either of us chose the other. We were legally married now. Mr. and Mrs. Snape. Best to just move forward and figure out how to be married. I nodded. He nodded in response. He took my hand. "Let's get you moved in, then."

"We're going to go unpack," he announced to the group. Everyone stopped and looked at us. I felt the blush darken my cheeks.

Then the cheering began again, subdued, just as before. Tonks and Remus both waved. Tonks was holding Teddy's hand. Ginny ran up to me and hugged me tightly. I let go of Severus's hand to hug her just as tightly back. "Good luck," she whispered. I blushed at the implication. I hoped he didn't want that. Not yet. I needed to know him before _that_ happened, marriage or not.

When she pulled away, I saw everyone else waving at us. Severus took my hand again, his fingers playing with my new ring, and turned us around. He walked me swiftly away from the party, back into the castle and up to the Headmaster's office.

"Dumbledore," he told the gargoyle. It obediently leapt to the side and the spiral staircase began ascending. He ushered me onto the step before stepping on himself. My heartbeat began beating faster. He opened the door and ushered me inside, crossing the office quickly and opening another door on the other side. It led to a staircase. He waited for me. When I reached him, he began walking down the stairs.

"The bedroom is down here," he explained without emotion. "Upstairs there is a balcony that looks over the lake. During the winter, there's an enchantment that keeps it warm and snow free."

He walked through the opening at the end of the staircase. It was a large study. All four walls were covered in bookcases. On the wall opposite us, there was a large fireplace. On either side, there were bookcases—these ones, unlike the others in the room, were empty.

"I added them yesterday to accommodate your own collections."

That was….thoughtful. "Thanks."

To my right there were two desks. One was covered in books and parchments and quills. The other one was empty. He had added a desk as well.

"It bothers me when my stuff is moved. Don't touch anything on my desk. I don't care how inviting it may be." His voice slowly grew more detached, harsher. I didn't say anything.

There was a door on the left wall; he walked through it. I followed him quietly. I stopped short just inside the threshold. This room was also covered in books stacked neatly in bookcases. But what stopped me was the king sized bed that sat flush against the wall opposite. It was a grand four poster, and it was covered in dark green sheets. The sight of it made me freeze in fright on the inside. I forced myself to walk forward into the room, but I was mentally trying to tamp down the panic attack that was welling up. I noted that my trunk was at the foot of the bed, exactly in the middle.

Severus walked to the right of the bed, opening a door. "This is the only bathroom. Please remember that I must use it also." He was courteous but entirely withdrawn. I walked slowly up to the bed, touching one of the posts. I gulped. "I want you unpacked by tomorrow night."

"Which side do you sleep…?" I trailed off in embarrassment and nervousness.

He came right up behind me. He didn't touch me, but I knew in every nerve ending that he was only centimeters from me. My breathing hitched.

"The left," he whispered.

I tightened my grip on the post, my right hand coming up to clench the footboard. I struggled to breathe regularly. I fought with my brain, convincing it that a panic attack was unnecessary. He stood there for a moment longer. I felt him turn around; I heard the light footsteps on the stairs. I let out a shaky breath.

_Welcome to married life_, I told myself bitterly.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Alright. I did NOT have an easy time writing this chapter. It was like pulling teeth without any pain killers. It took a long time and several re-writes. I hope you all enjoy it, and please be honest with me about what you think about it. Thank you all SO much for all of your feedback this far. I have a vague idea of where it's going, but we'll see how the characters dictate the story.**_

I stood there for a long time, still trying to convince my mind that a panic attack wasn't necessary. Finally, after several hours—at least, probably…I wasn't really sure—it seemed I had gained the upper hand over my mind. I turned around, intent on unpacking before I went to bed tonight. My left hand dropped from the post and brushed against the sheets. Silk. I bit my lip. I noticed two dressers, one with open drawers. I saw an undershirt that must be his. I clenched the footboard even tighter. As I walked slowly towards the dresser that must be mine, I smelled a scent that wasn't necessarily his—at least, I had never smelled it around him before. The place I had smelled it…

The flashback slammed into me with full force. Her face flashed before my eyes and then the scar—new and red and bleeding freely—overcame my mind. I clutched at the footboard, trying to convince my mind that I wasn't there. I was at Hogwart's. I was safe. That bitch was dead. But the smell didn't dissipate. Son of a bitch. It felt as if it was being etched into my arm this very moment, not some seventeen months ago.

My breathing came sporadically; I couldn't seem to be able to settle into a steady rhythm. My head got light. My knees gave out under me. Shit. This wasn't a panic attack I would be able to stop. I lost my grip on the footboard. My arms dropped to my sides as I curled into a ball. My breathing accelerated; I tasted tears on the edges of my tongue. My body shook uncontrollably, and I felt the sobs tear through my chest like they hadn't since the night Severus was told. That, in fact, had been my last panic attack. My chest shuddered; my entire body convulsed sickeningly.

The minutes passed, but I was unable to regain control of myself. I struggled to breathe. My stomach rolled with nausea. I lay there, shaking, helpless, hoping that I would be able to breathe so that I wouldn't pass out. I felt a cool hand place itself against my cheek, moving my hair out of my face. Some part of my brain registered that I was looking at the footboard of a bed, but my mind was stuck in that God forsaken mansion. Those assholes just watching in silence as she etched each letter into my arm.

Another sob shook me. I grasped at the ground, trying to find something to take me out of it, something that could stop it. I gulped for another breath. Someone kneeled above me; their hands moved over my cheeks, wiping away tears that had begun to freely flow. They lowered until they rested on my shoulders. Gently, they pushed me over until I was lying flat on my back, looking up at them. One hand withdrew and pulled out a wand.

A scream tore through me. "NO!" A sob made my torso convulse.

The hand came off of my shoulder only to return to my waist. I screamed again. "DON'T LET HIM TOUCH ME. _PLEASE_!"

Another hand rested itself just next to my head, its palm flat to the ground. "It's alright, Hermione. I do not mean to do as she did." The words rushed into my ear. It was as if his voice had splashed cold water on me; it gave me something to latch onto, to hold while I tried to pull myself out of the flashback. My body still shook uncontrollably.

I felt his thumb play over my hip bone. It was oddly soothing. "I won't harm you," he whispered into my ear. The sobs stopped; the shaking slowed. His hand rose up off the ground to wipe away more tears. Finally, my lungs were able to draw in a shaky but full breath. My eyes focused in on him.

He was looking intently upon me, searching my face, his eyes bright with worry, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. "I won't hurt you," he promised me again. I bit my lip as the panic attack dissipated, leaving only embarrassment in its wake.

I went to push myself up into a sitting position. He didn't fight me. Instead, he moved away from me, putting at least a foot between us. I leaned against the footboard—I now was on the other side of the bed, next to the bathroom instead of the study. My eyes glued themselves to the floor. I sucked in a deep breath; it felt like it had been hours since I had breathed normally. Hell, it might have been.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"It appears that I am not the only one broken," he sighed. "Look at me, Hermione."

Obediently, I lifted my gaze until it met his. I was struck with the intensity his eyes held. "I don't expect you to trust me with everything. Fuck, you don't even trust me to know what your scar actually _is_. But I do ask that you trust me enough to help you. I can help stop the panic attacks, the flashbacks," he reached out his hand, "but only if you let me."

I bit my lip again. I hardly knew him. He had always been so cold and distant. I didn't even know the full story about him and Professor Dumbledore and Voldemort and the war and…and everything. How could I trust him with something so horrific about me when I didn't know anything about him?

He sighed. "I imagine you want to know about my own scars, those memories I keep locked tight in the hopes that they won't torture me the way yours do." He paused. "Those will come with time. Just like your stories. You don't need to tell me what happened. Just trust me enough to help you."

Slowly, I nodded. I reached my left hand out. It was still shaking from the recent panic attack; it made the diamond of my ring sparkle in the flickering light. He took it gently in his. He looked down at our joined hands for a moment before returning his gaze to me. There was a new spark of emotion in his eyes; I had no idea what it was or what it meant.

My breath came shakily. I needed to trust him. The flashbacks, the panic attacks, they were happening way too often. They needed to stop, and I had no idea how to make that happen. He promised that he could help. How? Why? I bit my lip. "It was a smell," I admitted, looking down at our hands twined together. He wouldn't be able to help if I didn't tell him _something_.

"What smell?"

"I don't know. I've never smelled it around you. But it's the same way it smelled…" I trailed off. I pointed with our hands towards the dressers.

He released my hand and stood up. With easy steps he walked to the dresser that had the drawers open. I noticed that he was barefoot. He reached out, grabbing a letter and a parcel that had been left unopened. With the movement of the parcel, the smell wafted over to me. Cinnamon and vanilla and just the smallest hint of pine. I gagged. I saw Severus turn around, dropping the parcel.

His eyebrows pulled together. "She tortured you at the Malfoy mansion?" His voice seemed to be incredulous. Was he not told by her what had happened? He was inner circle…I thought he would've known everything.

"What's in the parcel?" I asked to distract myself. My body was exhausted, but my mind threatened to pull another flashback to the surface.

He looked back at it. "I don't know." He reached for it. "It came this morning, but I didn't have time to open it." With his left hand—the sight of his ring filled me with pride, strange as it was—he grabbed the letter. "He wrote that it was a present in response to the news. Susan picked it out." His eyes searched mine. "I would offer to let you open it but…"

I shook my head. "Go ahead."

He nodded, his hands deftly opening the end of the parcel. A book fell out and onto the ground with unceremonious din. Severus looked at it for a moment then reached into the parcel. He pulled out a small box that screamed of femininity—bright pink and cursive writing. After examining it for a moment, he dropped it into the top shelf of the second dresser.

"I don't think I need to know what's in there," he whispered in response to my look at him. My face darkened with a blush. I crawled across the floor, my head down, to grab the book. The smell didn't adhere itself to it. Thank goodness.

I picked it up with tentative hands. The cover wasn't attention grabbing, just a pale blue. I opened the cover and a found note written on the inside front cover.

_Hermione,_

_I suppose congratulation isn't the best salutation at this moment, but some day you both will look back and find that your wedding was wonderful. Let me assure you that you, someday, will trust that you made the best possible decision. Until that day comes, read this. Draco and I wrote in it together in the beginning to force us to spend time together. Some of it is romantic, some of it is boring, and some of it is quite mean and angry. But this helped us grow as a couple; it taught us what to value in each other. We would pick a question and answer it, together, both of us helping to write. I hope that this will help you in adjusting to married life. Just remember: it will be all right someday. _

_Susan_

I read the words over and over again, hope swelling in my chest. It took me a moment to realize that there was another note in a different handwriting addressed to Severus. I looked up and found him closing a dresser drawer.

"I think Draco wrote you a note," I told him, holding up the book. He took the book gently after helping me off the floor.

"Thanks," I told him. I watched him read for a moment, but when I saw his eyes begin to harden, I turned to my trunk, knowing that whatever had just happened between us was gone now. The hope faded out. Its absence made me feel cold.

I unlocked the trunk to pull out my wand. With an easy flick of it, the trunk lifted off the floor. I led it into the study, where I set it in front of the large bookcases that Severus had added for my use. Another flick of my wand dropped the trunk gently on the floor. "_Wingardium Leviosa_," I murmured, pointing my wand at the first books in my trunk. The topmost one obediently lifted itself into the air; with precision I guided it to the bookcase and placed it on the topmost shelf. These bookcases were much taller and wider than those at Grimmauld; all my books would fit easily into one of them. So I charmed each of the books, making it levitate and then move itself to its new place on the bookshelf.

Just as I was placing the last one on the shelf, I saw Severus walk out of the bedroom, through the study, and into the stairwell without a single word to me. He didn't even look at me. I mentally cursed Draco for whatever he wrote in that blasted note. At least Susan had enough wits about her to write something encouraging and helpful without being rude or demeaning. I heard his footsteps slowly fade away as he walked back into his office.

I sighed. I flicked my wand, irritated, and my trunk obediently followed me into the bedroom. I went to the dresser that he had dropped the box into. I started with the top drawer and began unpacking my clothes. Shirts, socks, pants all to their rightful place, just as it had been in Grimmauld. As I finished the first drawer, I held the small pink box lightly in my hand. No doubt what it was. I shuddered at the idea. I carefully tucked it back behind all the clothing so that it wasn't visible.

I continued moving my clothes into the drawers until everything but my closet items remained in the trunk. As I placed my final pair of jeans in the bottom drawer, I looked around, seeing if there was a closet. There weren't any doors except the one that led to the bathroom and the one that led to the study. I made my trunk move with me into the bathroom.

I was struck by the size—and my love of magic. Obviously an expansion charm had been performed when creating the bathroom because it was larger than many closets. There were two vanities with a mirror that stood over them. The tub was large and was separate from the shower. The colors were all dark, and the lighting was low. It exuded sensuality. I took a deep breath and noticed a door opposite the vanities.

I opened it and was relieved to find a fair sized closet. One side was empty; I assumed he had moved things around for me. I made my trunk drop onto the floor beside me. Unpacking all the closet items took longer than I thought it would. I had enough hangers, but putting each article of clothing on a hanger was time consuming. Finally, I was finished. I went back into the bathroom and looked out the window next to the closet door and was surprised to find the sky dark but the moon already well into her nightly climb through the sky. I went back into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a decent shirt to change into for the night. Severus walked in just as I was about to turn towards the bathroom. I looked away quickly and practically ran into the bathroom.

My breathing lightened when I realized that I had grabbed a long sleeved shirt. Good. That was one thing that didn't need to be dealt with today. Despite being absolutely exhausted physically and pretty drained mentally, I was pleased to see that the sweat pants didn't make my butt look atrocious. The shirt wasn't too bad either; it clung to my hips and breasts but was looser around my waist. I purposefully pulled the sleeves down until they reached the middle of my palms. I looked over myself again and realized that you could _definitely_ tell that I wasn't wearing a bra. Well damn. Oh well.

_We're married_, I told myself. _I have a right to not wear one of those to bed. They're super uncomfortable anyway_.

I mustered up all the courage and walked back into the bedroom after tossing my clothes into a basket in the corner of the bathroom. But when I saw him sitting there against the headboard, shirtless and a book in his lap, my breath left me in a sigh. My courage fled just as quickly. I bit my lip, trying to remember how to walk.

"I don't bite," he said curtly. "Besides, if you stand there much longer, you'll end up falling asleep on the floor."

His rudeness burned me. I raised my chin in indignation and strode purposefully to the bed. My hands quickly pulled back the sheets, and it was with gratefulness that I slid in between them. I pulled them back up to my neck. I looked at Severus for a moment; again, I found myself finding things I liked. He was as sculpted as it felt when we were dancing. His arm muscles were clearly defined, and his stomach sported a well chiseled eight pack.

He looked up at me. Shit, caught staring. "What?" He snapped at me.

"Nothing," I muttered. I turned over, facing away from him. I drew patterns mentally on the bathroom door. The minutes passed, but I couldn't seem to be able to fall asleep.

_ Just my luck_, I thought bitterly. All I wanted was to escape into the dream land so that I wouldn't have to be so intensely aware of the man in the bed next to me. After a while, I heard him sigh; the book was placed gently on the table on his side of the bed. The candles all flickered out at once. I felt him shift in the bed; his weight settled in next to me. He didn't touch me, but I knew he was there. There were only a few inches between us. His breath blew warmly over the back of my neck. It was oddly soothing, and I found myself drifting off to sleep within minutes. Just as I was about to fall completely asleep, I head him mutter something. I couldn't tell what it was, and Icouldn't bring myself to ask him. My mind was too close to the sleep realm.

I turned over, seeing his face only an inch away from mine. I found myself smiling for no particular reason. "Sleep," I heard him mutter. I nodded, my eyes fluttering closed again.

I could almost swear that I felt his lips against mine, but I was already dreaming. About him. So it was probably just the dream.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: So this is only the first half(ish) of the next day. I decided to split it into two chapters. There's definitely a LOT more introspection in this one, but trust me: there is definitely romance that is going to happen. I'm just letting Hermione set the pace, that's all! **_

_**As always, I hope you guys enjoy it. You guys definitely have encouraged me to keep writing. Thank you for all your reviews!**_

The next morning I awoke slightly confused. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. I lay there, afraid to open my eyes, trying to pinpoint smells around me. And then it all came flooding back. My eyes flew open. The room hadn't changed. I lay there, facing the door to the bathroom; it stood slightly ajar. The candles were lit, and I could tell that light was coming through the window in the bathroom. Severus's weight was missing in the bed; he was gone.

I pulled back the sheets and sat up slowly, stretching my arms above my head. I leaned back, pushing my torso forward, trying to get some of my back to pop. Surprising how comfortable I already felt here; but then, _he_ wasn't here at the moment. I got up. The floor was cool to the touch of my bare feet. I went to my dresser and picked out a relatively minimal outfit: knee length black shorts and a long sleeved red shirt. It wasn't a super nice top—just basic cotton—but it was light and airy, so it didn't make me feel too bogged down in the middle of July. I carried these into the bathroom, where I set them on the closed toilet seat while I turned on the water for a quick shower. Just because I was married didn't mean that my daily schedule needed to change.

The water was warm and inviting. I stepped in quickly after putting my pajamas in the same basket I had put my clothes the previous night. My hair straightened with the weight of the water. I went through my regular routine—washing my hair, brushing my teeth, washing my face. When I stepped out almost half an hour later, steam filled the bathroom, making seeing the door to the bedroom pretty difficult. A small smile lit my face. It seemed as if I had just found a new sanctuary for myself. I put on the outfit I picked and used a silent spell to dry my hair. I looked in the mirror for a moment, magically removing the steam that clouded my reflection.

It wasn't the best I had ever looked; it definitely didn't compare to how I looked yesterday for the wedding. But I was just too unwilling to care. Why put effort into my appearance when Severus wouldn't care—or notice? I walked back into the bedroom. I flicked my wand and the bed remade itself. I was just about to walk into the study when I saw a piece of parchment on the bed. I bit my lip. He had said he didn't like his stuff being moved.

_If he doesn't want it being moved, he shouldn't leave it on the bed_, I finally decided and grabbed the parchment. I unfolded it and found that it was addressed to me.

_Mrs. Snape,_

_ After staying up so late to unpack, I couldn't let myself wake you when I usually awake. When looking at you while I was getting ready, you were so tranquil, so at home. I couldn't bring myself to end that. During the summer, there is no official breakfast in the Great Hall. The house elves will make you whatever you wish. There is also a kitchen off of the study. I hope that your dreams did not torment you._

He did not leave a signature. I looked the letter over again. _Mrs. Snape_, I thought. How strange. Here was another reminder that I really was a married woman. I didn't feel like a married woman. Was it because I still had my virginity? I shuddered at the idea of _sleeping_ with Severus. Even if he was particularly well sculpted…

I shook my head. I looked at the letter again. He said there was a kitchen in the quarters. Guess I should find it because there was _no_ way I was asking the house elves to make me breakfast. But first…I looked at my dresser. I walked over to it. After folding the letter, I placed it with the small pink box. He didn't need to know just how much I valued kind words from him.

With that accomplished, I walked into the study, intent on finding this aloof kitchen. I looked around and noticed a door in the wall to my left. I walked through it and found a small kitchen—smaller than the bathroom. It was equipped with enough to provide warm meals, but nothing fancy. I found milk and poured it over cereal; I wasn't in any mood for something fancier. I ate quickly, wanting to get out of his—our?—quarters and into the dungeons, where I was sure to find Professor Slughorn. The sooner I talked to him, the sooner I could begin the first assignments he wished to give. I wanted to be as ready as possible when the school year started.

With this in mind, I set out purposefully from the gargoyle guarded staircase towards the dungeons. The warmth I felt when walking the castle halls somewhat surprised me. While I had fallen in love with Hogwart's during my time as a student, I knew that it did not compare to Harry's own attachment to the school. I had come from a nice home with loving parents and accepting muggle friends. Harry's only true safe place was Hogwart's. Even after he moved into Grimmauld Place after the war and refurnished it to rid it of the "Black feel" as he called it, I knew that he truly yearned for Hogwart's some days.

I mentally pulled the warmth into me, holding it closely as I walked down the final staircase that put me in the dungeons. I turned right, heading towards the office associated with the Potions professor. I stood there, in front of the door, for several moments, trying to gain enough courage. I let out a breath. _Curse that damn war_, I thought bitterly. I had never been this cowardly before the war. I looked at my hands; they shook slightly. _Damn it_.

Another deep breath. I was sorted into Gryffindor; I had lived as a Gryffindor was thought to live for the seven years I attended Hogwart's. Why should I allow horrors from the war such power over me? That thought filled me with strength. Harry and Ron still lived their lives with courage, and it wasn't without cost. One benefit of living at Grimmauld with Harry: I knew just what that war had cost him in sound dreams and restful nights.

I knocked firmly twice.

"Come in," Professor Slughorn's voice sounded through the door.

I opened the door quietly, stepping into his office with careful steps. He looked up from a piece of parchment in his hands. His face lit with a bright smile when he saw that it was me.

"Ah! Hermione! How nice to see you again!" He exclaimed, pushing himself up from his chair. He walked towards me. "How has this last year treated you? A graduate's first year is often telling of the life they will live." He told me.

I hesitated in my answer. I had helped Ginny study for her own N.E.W.T. exams after pulling top scores in mine. I had also helped Harry clean up Grimmauld Place. But he was looking for choices that had propelled my future. "I took a temporary job at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, filling potion orders."

He nodded, smiling. "Destined to work with Potions!" He gestured to the door. "Come now. Let's get you reacquainted with these Potions rooms."

I followed him out of his office and into the hallway that led to the various dungeons where Potions classes took place. He motioned to various doors. "The First and Second Years take classes in here. The room is a bit larger. There is only a minimal amount of ingredients in the storage cupboard." He paused. "Here, let me show you." And he pushed open the door, leading me into the dungeon classroom. I remembered this room, remembered how Severus had humiliated Harry during our first class—and had completely ignored me when I raised my hand, knowing the answers to the questions he was asking.

He led me to the storage cupboard that sat at the front of the room. He opened it, revealing only the simplest of ingredients. I nodded. He nodded then walked back out of the room, leading me to the next room. "I have found that having the first years brew a new potion every class is not beneficial for their learning," he explained.

"Also, this is where I teach Third through Fifth year students. The room is also quite large, but I've placed an extra supplies cupboard specifically for the Fifth Years since they are studying for their O.W.L.s." He motioned towards the next door but kept walking down the hallway.

"Anyway, back to my original thought. I find that lecturing the younger students at least once a week and assigning them a final essay about the topic potion before brewing it helps tremendously. Far fewer explosions or foul smells."

I nodded, taking it all in. I would need to write some of it down, but I would be able to do that later. We walked to another door. He opened it for me and then motioned for me to walk inside. I remembered this room—where he taught us Potions instead of Severus for our N.E.W.T. exams. It seemed so long ago, standing there, looking at the various items on the walls, learning all about advanced potion making while dealing with so many outside things, too. Sixth year had been so tumultuous.

I pulled myself out of the reverie. "I'll teach these classes for the year," he was telling me. "I'll have you shadow some of the classes, of course, so that you feel more comfortable with them." I nodded again. We walked back out of the classroom, and he led me further down the hall. I had never been this far down into the dungeons—even the Slytherin common room was before this point. He gestured to a door that had been left ajar. "This is the personal workroom. And this," he waved his hand at the door across the corridor from it, "is the storage room. As my apprentice, you'll be in charge of making sure that all ingredients are stocked properly. There's a fund which is devoted to purchasing supplies for classes. When we run low on an item, you'll take money from that vault in Gringotts and purchase what is needed."

"All right," I answered.

"You are welcome to use the personal workroom whenever it is available to work on your own potions," he told me. He turned around. "I'm going to head back to my office. A former student of mine whom I am particularly fond of has published an article regarding the changes taking place within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm finding it quite intriguing. Any last questions for me today? I don't want to start inventory and lesson planning until August."

I thought for a quick moment. "Of the books that you had me purchase, which one should I complete first? I thought I could get started on the reading so that I'm better prepared."

His smile was wide and warm. "Always the productive one!" He paused for a moment, his hand coming up to rest on his chin. "Start with that one by Phineas Cage. It's an interesting view on Potion making. And then, when you've finished that one, read the one by Malinda Newton. That'll set you up well for creating lessons."

"Thank you, sir," I told him earnestly. At least I had a plan, something I could use as an escape from whatever the hell I had—or was going to have—with Severus.

He patted my shoulder. "Please, call me Horace when no student is around."

I nodded. He smiled again before turning around and walking down the corridor towards his office. After a moment, I saw him turn, and he was then out of sight. I looked at the storage room. How many different ingredients were kept there? I remembered from my second year that even the strange ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion were stored there. I sighed and turned to look at the personal workroom, to the door that stood ajar. Was someone in there?

Silently, I walked forward until I could see into the small room. A cauldron was brewing, only light heat being produced by a magical fire underneath it. Who would leave a potion—clearly one only recently started—alone in a room to brew? All the potions I knew of brewed only after significant amounts of energy had been put into them. I was just about to push open the door when Severus walked into view, a small vial in his hand. He placed it next to the ingredients already laid next to the cauldron.

I watched him work for several minutes, surprised at the contentment that was slowly filling my chest. His hands were sure in their movements, first crushing an ingredient before sliding the juice into the cauldron. Without missing a beat, he stirred the potion several times clockwise. The potion immediately lightened.

"Why are you making a sleeping draught?" I asked before I could stop myself, moving into the threshold of the doorway.

He looked up, shock on his face. His features quickly rearranged into a sneer. "Maybe it's to keep you from waking me up most of the night." His voice was harsh again.

I dropped my eyes instantly, feeling tears on the edges. How rude. "Sorry," I muttered. I turned around and walked quickly down the corridor to the stairwell before he could say anything else. When I returned to the Entrance Hall, I found that the sun was directly overhead. Noon, then. I thought of eating something, but my stomach turned over. Apparently, despite my best intentions, my body wasn't going to give me a break from all this back and forth nonsense with Severus. "Fine, then," I muttered.

I climbed the main staircase. I spaced out for a while during my walk to the library. I had made the trek so often during my schooling that it really had become second nature. Once there, I realized that it was unlocked. I pulled out my wand. "Accio Phineas Cage book." I waited for a few moments. A noise to my left alerted me to the oncoming book. I caught it with my left hand, tucking my wand back into my pocket.

I opened the doors to the library, stepped inside, and then quickly shut them again. It was empty. I walked through the book filled shelves towards the back, there the restricted section was—and the windows. I didn't feel like lighting a candle or two; windows, at this time of day, would work just fine for a light source.

I stopped when I reached the entrance to the restricted section. I focused on keeping my breathing even, deep, normal. I didn't need permission to go in this section anymore. In fact, I would be the one _giving_ the permission for older students. How strange. I pushed the door open and walked in quickly, heading straight to the back, where the entire back wall was covered in large windows. I pulled a chair over from one of the desks and set it under the window. After sitting, I opened the front cover and began my reading. I didn't have a quill with me, I soon realized with chagrin, when I wanted to write a note next to a particular comment Mr. Cage had written.

_I'll just read it through a second time_, I told myself. That was better for retention anyway. And I had three weeks before Professor Slughorn wanted to start working on the preparations for the upcoming school year. If I wasn't careful, I would find myself completely done with the books he had told me to purchase before July was even finished. I settled into my seat, enjoying the feel of the summer sun on my face.

_**LATER**_

I began to notice when the light coming through the windows darkened to where it was no longer enough to read with. With a glance outside, I realized just how late it was. I had probably already missed dinner. I tucked down the corner of the page I was on, marking my spot for when I continued reading before standing up and exiting the library. I purposely kept my mind blank as I entered his office and walked down the staircase to the living quarters.

I placed the book down on a chair that faced the fire. I hesitated for a moment. There was no fire going; I knew I would like one later, after I'd eaten. I would have thought that he would have started one when he returned from his potion. Did he not like having fires during the summer? Or was he still brewing that sleeping draught? I thought of the amount of time had passed since I had interrupted his work in the dungeons. The only sleeping draught that could take possibly that much was the Draught of the Living Dead, but the potion he had been creating was the wrong color.

Well, I enjoyed reading by the fire every night that I could; I pulled out my wand and pointed it to the empty fireplace. A fire started obediently.

With that done, I walked into the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks. How many more times would this man surprise me?

_Probably a lot_, I thought honestly. I couldn't keep up with his freaking mood swings.

Because there, right in front of me—even after the horribly rude remark he had told me that morning—was Severus Snape clearly making me dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Happy New Year to all of you! I hope that 2013 holds wonderful things for all of you. :) This chapter was fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. **_

I looked at him for a few moments, just taking in the sight of him. He wore black pants and a black shirt. It wasn't the robes I had seen him wearing in the workroom. Perhaps he wore a jacket when brewing? The shirt clung to his torso, highlighting each sculpted muscle; I noticed that it was long sleeved. I was almost positive that he wasn't wearing an undershirt. He had his back turned to me, and I found satisfaction in the way his shoulder blades were so defined when he leaned over the counter.

Would he be angry with me again if I interrupted him? He was always going back and forth. First, he's angry with me that I chose him. Then he's all nice and helpful with my packing, but then he's pissed at me again for bringing up the reason why I had picked him—even though he's the one that brought it up. And then, within the last twenty four hours, I had seen him switch between kind and angry and withdrawn four different times.

Honestly, I didn't think I would be able to handle much more.

Ah hell. _I'm not going to let him have such power over me like that_, I told myself sternly. _I deserve better than that_. So, before I could lose my nerve, I knocked my knuckles on the doorframe lightly. He immediately looked up from whatever he was doing.

He didn't smile, but he didn't sneer either, which was probably the best I could hope for at the moment. "Where were you?" Though it wasn't harsh, his voice was still demanding.

"Good evening to you, too, dear," I replied sweetly.

He scowled.

I laughed a little bit and walked fully into the small kitchen. "I was in the library, reading."

He nodded. He turned around—I followed the shape of his shoulder blades again—and grabbed something from the counter. When he handed it to me, I realized that it was tomato soup in a bowl. It was on top of a plate that held a grilled cheese sandwich. How did he figure out that I liked these? I shrugged off the question; I was starving. They were good. I finished mine quickly, eating the soup that remained. When I set down the plate and bowl, I snuck a glance across the small space to him. He was looking at me, that same emotion in his eyes that I had no name for. His own bowl and plate lay empty next to him.

I bit my lip; a new feeling was rising in the bottom of my stomach. Before I could analyze it, I found that Severus had pushed himself away from the counter and now stood in my own personal space. While it was new and not exactly comfortable, I didn't exactly dislike his nearness. He placed a hand on my neck gently, and then, without time to think about anything, he leaned in and kissed me. I reveled more fully in the softness of his lips. I reached out and put my hand on the side of his neck, right where it meets the shoulder. His shirt didn't reach there; I noted how soft his skin was. His lips pushed against mine insistently, and I pushed back. His other hand came to rest at the nape of my neck; it played with a few strands of hair. He finally pulled away, his breathing heavier than normal and his eyes an even richer black.

Did that…really just happen?

He looked at me intently; I made sure not to break eye contact. Neither of us said anything. "I'm sorry." I barely heard him say it. A moment later, he had left the kitchen.

I stood there, confused and hyper aware of my body. What just happened? Did I not…do it right? I mean, I hadn't done _a lot_ of stuff before, but I had managed to get to first base. I knew how to kiss. I recalled the kiss, the woodsy taste, the soft lips, his inviting smell. I couldn't think of how it could have gone wrong. Did I accidentally send out some kind of "vibe" that he took to mean I didn't want to kiss? I mean, hell. I wasn't sure if I really _wanted_ to kiss him, but it had been nice, fun, easy.

I shook my head, letting out a deep breath. Again with the fucking mood swings.

I walked out of the kitchen with quiet steps, worried that I might piss him off again, but he wasn't in the study. Great. Glad to know that I _really_ angered him this time. "Get over it," I muttered, heading for the chair that I left the Cage book on. I sat down heavily, flipping the book open to the bookmarked page angrily.

I forced myself to focus on the book, tuning out all other thoughts—especially those regarding Severus. I had made it successfully to the beginning of the next insufferably long chapter when I heard him walk down the stairs and into the study. My breathing tried to hitch, but I forced it to remain level. I forced myself to continue reading.

As he sat down in the chair across from me, I realized that I had no idea what I had read on the last page. Damn it. I flipped back, rereading it, trying to understand what point the author was making. Something about the idea of sleeping draughts and whether or not they were ethical in this new era of magic. I refused to look up at him; I managed to get another several pages through the book, understanding the viewpoint of the author, but mentally forming a counter argument.

Eventually, I looked up from the book in my hands, finally accepting that I was unable to concentrate on the reading with him sitting so close to me. He seemed to have no problem focusing on his own book, though; his eyes were glued to the book resting in his lap. He turned a page, a look upon his face that suggested he was beginning to become bored.

I bit my lip, confused by the sudden urge to kiss him. How strange. Something bubbled in the put of my stomach. It wasn't anxiety or fear; I couldn't find a name to describe it. It vaguely reminded me of when I was with Viktor Krum during the Yule Ball. But not even that was the same—a lot of that had been anxiety.

I looked over him. The urge to kiss him grew stronger; it led me to leave my own book on the chair as I stood up. _What the _hell_ are you doing_? I asked myself. Severus didn't look up. I took a deep breath. I used it to pull myself together. I wanted to kiss him. From his behavior at dinner, I could assume he wanted to kiss me as well—no matter how bored he might look.

And, hell, I kind of liked the feel of his lips.

So I walked up to him before I could chicken out. I rested my hands on the arms of the chair and leaned in, blocking his view of whatever book he was reading. He looked up at me. I leaned in, closed my eyes, and pressed my lips against his. His lips were soft and warm but unresponsive. Crap. Did he really not want to kiss me? What the hell was that at dinner then?

I was just about to pull away, embarrassed, when his lips moved against mine. His lips pushed against mine, but I pushed back. He must have dropped his book because suddenly his hands were on my hips, pulling me closer into him. My lips parted slightly; he pressed his bottom lip into the space created. I kissed him even harder. That thing that was building in my chest had seemed to crest—it overflowed from me with an intensity that frightened me. I felt his tongue brush lightly along my bottom lip.

I froze. I hadn't been expecting _that_. He froze, too, for a moment. Then he pushed me away and stood up, his book dropping from his lap onto the ground with a hard thud. I bit my lip. My hands trembled. _That_ had definitely not been the right reaction. Shit. He didn't look at me. I saw his hands form fists at his sides.

I hadn't expected him to do that—second day seemed a little early for second base. But I had liked it. A lot. And it finally dawned on me as I saw him turn slowly towards the bedroom what that feeling was that had filled my chest beyond capacity.

It was desire.

It was new, exciting. I liked it. I looked down at my hands as Severus started walking towards the bedroom. I had liked it. Fuck. He obviously didn't think that.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, not looking up at him.

He didn't say anything. I looked up, suddenly desperate for him to understand. He was almost to the bedroom.

"I liked it," I blurted out. I squeezed my hands together, trying to keep them from shaking so violently.

He stopped walking. He didn't turn around. I saw his hands become fists again. "What?" The iciness wasn't expected.

"I didn't…" God. How the hell was I supposed to describe this? I wasn't used to not understanding what was going on with me. "I liked the way you…kissed me." Could I describe it as a kiss? I wasn't sure.

He turned slowly around. His eyes had lost their friendliness. It was as if I were some stranger. "What?" This time his voice was layered with both iciness and surprise.

Seriously? How many times was he going to make me say it? "I enjoyed….kissing you," I hesitated. The phrase was so new on my tongue.

His eyes burned into me. "You stopped." His voice had changed again; now it was detached, emotionless.

"I'm sorry," I told him again earnestly. "I just…" I bit my lip and looked down at my hands to gather myself. "I haven't ever _done_ that much with a guy." God. I felt like I was thirteen again trying to explain to McGonagall that I had just started my period, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to crawl into a hole and not resurface. How embarrassing. I saw his eyes soften, the richness returning to them. He walked up to me but didn't touch me.

That didn't stop me from being hyper aware of him. Desire began boiling in my chest again.

"You've never…" he trailed off, his eyes thoughtful. "I am surprised that you have never French kissed a guy," he told me, absolutely blunt.

I bit my lip again.

"It is I who should apologize then. I had assumed that you had…experience…prior to _us._"

I looked at my bare feet. Slowly, I shook my head. "I've only kissed two guys." I took a deep breath and glanced back up at him. "And nothing else."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. We both stood there for a moment. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to make him angry again. Slowly, with absolute precision, he reached his hand out to me.

"I'm sorry," he told me quietly. His eyes burned with that new emotion. I finally recognized it to be desire. I placed my hand gently in his. He closed his around mine, and leaned in slowly.

His eyes burned brighter with the new emotion. For a moment I wondered what mine looked like to him. But only for a moment because then his lips were on mine again, and I was quickly throwing away the idea that this wouldn't be a traditional marriage.

I stepped forward until I could feel our joined hands run into him. My lips parted like they had before, and his bottom lip again filled the empty space. But this time, instead of waiting for his tongue to ask for entrance, I summoned up my courage and sent my own tongue on the same mission. I let it lightly trail along his bottom lip. The woodsy taste was intensified. I could also taste just the barest hints of tomato. The thought made me smile a little bit, but then Severus had reached his own tongue out to taste my lip again, and I forgot about the tomato.

I didn't know what to do. But…no one did when they were doing it the first time. And everyone else seemed to manage just fine. Maybe…This couldn't really be learned from reading a book, could it? Maybe I needed to trust my instincts with this area. God. That was like asking for the sun to not set at night.

His tongue traced over my lip again, and I gave myself over to instinct. I parted my lips further. Severus obviously knew what he was doing; he was sure in his movements as his tongue explored. He dropped my hand and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him until I was pressed firmly against him. My hands moved slowly up his torso, feeling each crevice before wrapping themselves around his neck. My breathing sped up. Desire heightened my senses, making each sensation seem so much more than it could ever possibly be. Severus pulled my hips into him. I felt his wanting to go further pressing insistently against my stomach.

I lost my nerve. My lips faltered against his; I pulled my tongue back. Severus stopped moving. Fuck. I dropped my arms, my hands coming to fist at my sides.

"I'm sorry." I could barely hear my own voice.

He didn't say anything. He simply moved his hands so that they embraced me in a gentle hug. "Don't be," he whispered into my hair. He didn't seem angry or irritated or annoyed. It felt a little strange. "We'll go as far and as fast as you want. I don't want you to feel pressured."

"But you want…" I trailed off.

I was surprised by his light laugh. "Yeah, well, I'm a guy. It comes with the territory."

I wrapped my arms around him lightly. Maybe this would be possible. I nodded against his chest. I felt him let out a deep breath. He released me gently from his grip and took my hands. "Come sit down with me." I hesitated for a fraction of a second. He looked down at me, and I saw—for a split second before he covered it—hurt in his eyes. Damn it. I just couldn't do anything right, could I? That was a new experience. Fuck.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'd like to sit with you." He looked at me for a few minutes. I tried not to squirm under his gaze. Finally, he nodded and walked over to where he had been sitting before. After sitting, he gently lowered me onto his lap. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking into the fire.

I didn't know what to say in a situation like this. He was silent, too. Maybe he didn't know either? Or were you not supposed to say anything during these kinds of moments? Were you just supposed to sit there and think about things and enjoy the silence? I thought about that for a moment. I didn't really appreciate the silence; I never had. I probably never would, if I was being honest with myself. But I did enjoy the heat that came off the fire and the heat that was him around me. His hands that rested on my thigh were strong and exuded their own heat. His embrace made me feel safe and protected like I hadn't since _she_ tortured me.

"That man's writing is horrible, and his viewpoint is completely outdated," he commented after a while. His voice was deep, relaxed. It rumbled in his chest and buzzed low in my ears.

"Slughorn wanted me to read it."

"Horace is fucking insane," he said dryly. I giggled a little bit.

He sighed. "Finish it for him, but don't worry if you don't remember most of it. It's a bunch of bullshit anyway. When you're done, I'll have you read the counter argument to Cage's. It's much better in development and prevalence."

I was quiet for a moment. "All right," I could hear the smile in my voice. He didn't say anything else, and I fell easily back into the weirdly uncomfortable silence that didn't feel weird or awkward. After a while, I put my hand over his and interlaced our fingers. I closed my eyes, surprisingly content.

I didn't know how much time passed with us like that. Occasionally, he would press a light kiss to my forehead. I would smile and nuzzle further into his neck, smell his unique smell. I would wait a few moments then press a kiss to his throat. He would sigh contentedly and tighten his arms around me. Eventually he sighed deeply.

"Let's go to bed."

My breathing began to quicken. His arms tightened around me again.

"Not like that," he whispered.

I immediately calmed. I stood up, not letting go of his hand. He stood up and walked with me into the bedroom. I grabbed a pair of pajamas from my dresser and changed quickly in the bathroom. I already missed the heat that his body exuded. My own personal wall of heat that kept the panic attacks out. I didn't check my reflection in the mirror.

I walked back into the bedroom and found him sitting on his side of the bed, shirtless, looking intently at me. I gulped. We had barely made it to second base. Why in the _hell_ was I so nervous? Quickly I pushed back the covers and sat on the bed. I looked down at my hands for a moment.

_Coward_, I thought, bitter and frustrated.

His hand came to rest on my thigh; his wedding band reflected the light of the few candles in the room that were lit. I wrapped my hand lightly around it. I sighed. I lean over, resting my head in his lap. The covers came up to cover our legs. Magic, most of the time, was super handy. He brushed his hand through my hair for a few moments. I sat up again; I saw him lay on his back. I placed my head on his chest when he held out his arm. He wrapped his arms around me as the candles went out.

He pressed his lips against my hair. "No panic attack today," he whispered.

No, there had been no panic attack today. I smiled into his chest. I knew, as I fell asleep, that it was because he had been with me when they normally happen. The warmth that exuded from him as we sat before the fire had kept the anxiety from me. I smiled again into his chest and then fell into a sleep that offered dreams of him.


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: This chapter is shorter than normal, and I apologize for that. I'm currently in the process of moving, so it's been difficult to find time to write. This chapter seemed to end pretty nicely for me. Hopefully it doesn't frustrate you all too much. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, including those with constructive criticism. Let just assure all of you who pointed it out that I did intentionally make Hermione know the wrong progression of the "bases." It's resolved in this chapter. _**

**_Anyway, again I thank you for reading this and encouraging me! I hope that you enjoy this chapter._**

The next morning, I found Severus to be getting ready in the bathroom when I woke up. During the night, I must have rolled over onto my side of the bed because now I found myself with one arm dangling off the mattress and the majority of the covers on his side of the bed. Eventually, when I realized that Severus was taking his pretty little time, I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

_What's taking him so long?_ I wondered idly. It was difficult to keep my mind freaking out as it tended to do in the mornings—or anytime really when there wasn't a hundred different things going on that kept me busy. Just as I was about to leave the warmth of the bed, I heard the shower water cut on.

That's _what's taking him so long_.

I tried not to think about Severus as I sat there but was only moderately successful. My thoughts, though I made sure they didn't wander to the idea of Severus in the shower—and what that implied—eventually landed themselves on the previous night. I blushed as I recalled it. His skin was soft; I hadn't expected that. Was that second base? Or first?

Damn myself for never paying attention to Lavender about how far one guy or the next took her. I tried to remember anything from any conversation I might have been forced to endure. Something stirred at the back of my mind, but I couldn't tell if it was a panic attack hanging out on the fringes or a memory that I was desperately trying to recall. I twisted my hands in the sheets before allowing whatever it was to come and take center stage in my mind.

It was that memory I was wanting. Thank goodness.

"_You did _what _with him?" Parvati had asked Lavender after she had finished explaining whatever had happened._

"_Haven't you ever heard it called that?" Lavender's voice was incredulous. _

_Honey, no. Not everyone's goal is to make out with every single non-Slytherin that's our age._

"_No," Parvati answered honestly. I remember that she had set down her book on her bed and was leaning intently over the side towards Lavender._

"_Well yeah. Second base is where he totally feels you up," she seemed completely uninterested in the conversation. How did you even _manage_ that? I mean, seriously._

I pulled myself out of the memory. At least I had my answer. So no. It hadn't been second base. Knowing that, for whatever strange reason, made me feel better about myself. _Now hopefully Severus doesn't totally decide to ride the emotional fucking roller coaster today_.

He still hadn't gotten out of the shower. Well shit. I wasn't ready to daydream about him yet; my dreams had supplied enough desire-filled, totally awkward at-the-moment images and possible realities that I didn't need to supplement them. Instead, to keep myself occupied, I looked around the bedroom. Perhaps there was something in here that I could do while I waited for the bathroom to be open.

I spotted the journal Susan and Draco had sent us lying on the top of my dresser. It hadn't been there yesterday night when I had gotten ready for bed. Did that mean Severus had read it this morning? Is that why he was taking so much time in the bathroom? Silent footsteps carried me to the dresser. With easy hands I picked up the journal and flipped it open to the first page.

I reread the note Susan had written in the cover. Just as I was about to turn the page and see what they had actually written, Draco's note to Severus caught my eye. I knew I probably shouldn't read it. But…

_Professor Snape:_

_When Susan told me the news, I was shocked. Granger picked __you__? I'm sure you couldn't believe it either. But, hell, it __is__ Granger, which means there's some reason why she chose you and not all the other guys I'm sure offered themselves for her. She's fucking famous. I know there were a lot of guys on that list. Anyway, she chose you. So some part of her obviously likes you and finds you attractive. So put aside your goddamned self-loathing. Get over the shit that you know you can't change. The longer it takes you to do that, the longer it's going to take her to become comfortable with you. Which really just means that you'll be living in an even worse fucking hell than just being married. She's one hell of a catch._

_Draco_

Did he…really say that to Severus?

I thought back to how Severus seemed so angry when he was reading it. No wonder why. If I had been in his shoes, I probably would have been furious, too. I gently placed the journal where it had been lying before on my dresser just as I heard the water cut off in the bathroom.

_Finally_.

But then I started getting anxious. Would he assume I'm still asleep? Or did he always get dressed in the bathroom? I looked around the bedroom. Nothing seemed out of place or moved or lived in at all. I _really_ wasn't ready to deal with the possibility that he wasn't dressed. My breathing had just begun to speed up, my mind well on its way to supplying a panic attack when the door to the bathroom opened.

I couldn't help myself from looking despite my worries. Turns out that they had been just worries. Severus was wearing a pair of black pants similar to those he wore yesterday. And no shirt. That seemed to be a trend forming—or had it already been formed? Yesterday, with everything to keep me busy, I pretty much forgot that he had lived an entire life without me. Habits. Hurts. Routines. All of them were already formed long before I came into the picture.

He looked over at me. His eyes were back to being hard and cold. Well son of a bitch. I noticed how the green of the mark glowed against his skin, accented by the black of his pants. Another thought ran through my head: _How is he able to just show his mark like that? _I mean, I would probably never get to that point; I wasn't even really _wanting_ to. I saw him walk to the doorway to the study.

"About time you got up," he told me icily. "I was getting tired of all the snoring, not to mention getting kicked repeatedly."

I felt the blush spread quickly across my face. He had meant for that one to hurt. I didn't snore. I turned and walked into the bathroom, but instead of following with my normal routine, I walked into the closet and grabbed one of my cloaks and a long sleeved dress. Fuck this. I grabbed my wand hastily from the floor where I had changed the previous night. If he liked riding the fucking roller coaster, then I would let him. But I wasn't joining him for the ride.

I made sure my face was emotionless when I walked back out to the bedroom. Severus was sitting on the bed again, a smug look upon his face as he read some stupid ass book. Asshole. I didn't look at him as I walked out of the bedroom. Through the study, up the stairs to his office, and down the various staircases until I was in the Entrance Hall. I forced my mind to stay blank by counting steps. One. Two. Three. Then one-two-three-four in rhythm as I flew down the next staircase. I pulled on my cloak to hide the fact that I was still in pajamas and practically ran down the grounds towards Hogsmeade. I was desperate to get out of there before he could track me down and say anything else to me.

The moment I was outside of the gates, I turned sharply and was relieved when I felt the familiar tightness squeeze uncomfortably against my chest. I almost cried when it released me, and I found myself standing on the front porch of Grimmauld Place. Finally, a place I belong. A place where I'm wanted. I knocked lightly on the door. It felt strange to do so, but I no longer lived there, so it seemed necessary.

It took a few moments, but then the door was opening. Harry stood there, Ginny right behind him. Harry seemed pretty surprised to see me. Great. That's definitely not what I had been hoping for. Ginny pushed past him, though, so that she was standing right in front of me.

"Hermione!" She exclaimed happily. "Come in! Come in!" She motioned for me to join them in the doorway. I stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Harry, come on. Give her somewhere to go." He obediently moved down the hallway. I stepped quickly inside and closed the door.

"Sorry that I didn't give you any warning or anything," I apologized.

"Don't worry about it!" Ginny said lightly. "I just got here myself." She started walking down the hallway. "We just started breakfast. Have you eaten?" She looked back at me. I managed to shake my head. "Well there should be enough for you, so that works out perfectly!"

She walked through the door to the kitchen. I stood there in the hallway, looking at my feet.

Harry's voice was quiet. "Why haven't you gotten dressed?" I looked up at him, biting my lip in nervousness. His eyes pulled down in concern. "That bad?" He asked.

I shrugged, looked down at my feet. After a little bit I was finally able to nod. Yes. It was that bad. And it was only the third day. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He reached out his hand and placed it on my shoulder. I looked up at him. His eyes were drawn together in concern; worry made them shine brighter than normal. "You're always welcome to come here, no matter the time of day, alright?" I nodded, a small smile spreading across my face. Yes. I was wanted here. It was the right decision, coming here instead of the Burrow.

"Are you guys coming? It's ready," Ginny's voice carried down the hallway. I had forgotten how much I loved this. It was so much more warm and inviting than those quarters at Hogwart's. I followed Harry down the hallway, but instead of walking into the kitchen with him, I stopped.

"I'm going to go change," I explained when Harry gave me an odd look. He nodded, understanding.

"I'll make sure to keep yours warm," he promised.

It only took a few minutes after walking into the hall bathroom. The dress I had grabbed had a built in bra, which was lucky since I hadn't thought to grab one in my determination to get the hell out of there. I wrapped my pajamas in the traveling cloak and placed them by the fireplace in the living room. With that done, I walked to the kitchen and entered quietly. Ginny was sitting on the counter, Harry standing next to her, eating.

Ginny smiled warmly when she saw me walk in. "Yours is there," and she motioned to a burrito on a plate about a foot down from her on the counter. I smiled back and walked around the table to get it. It was warm on my tongue; I realized just how hungry I was. For the first time since the wedding, the anxiety had cleared out of my stomach. I was able to really eat; it only took me a few minutes to finish the whole thing.

I looked up to find Harry staring at me and Ginny trying to be more polite about it—she was running one of her hands through Harry's hair, and her eyes flicked between me and her hand. I swallowed my last bite self-consciously. I raised one eyebrow in question to their stares.

"You act as if you haven't eaten," Harry stated the obvious. And that was pretty much the truth. With the emotional roller coaster that had portions of nervousness and panic attacks and anger and resentment and sometimes all at the same time, it finally occurred to me that it wasn't surprising that I hadn't eaten very much.

"Well, honestly, I haven't really," Harry slowly raised his eyebrows, and I could tell that he was about ready to punch Severus in the face. I spoke faster. "With all the anxiety and adjustment, my body hasn't really been telling me to eat. And I started doing the research for Slughorn yesterday, so I haven't really thought about eating."

"Good thing you're here, then," Ginny said. "We'll make sure to keep stress levels as low as possible." I smiled at her.

Ginny got down from the counter, and Harry asked, "What are we doing for the wedding today?"

"I need to go to Diagon Alley to pick up Hermione's dress," Harry started to smile, "_and_ my own," she added at the last moment. His face fell.

"Damn. I wanted to go to Diagon Alley anyway. I guess I'll wait until you get back to go get what I need."

Her eyebrows lifted a little bit. "Oh? And what would that be?"

He winked at me. "That's for me to know, and you to not worry about."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him affectionately. Part of me was saddened that I didn't get that with my own—I tripped over the word—husband…and part of me just simply wanted to puke. But that probably didn't have anything to do with Harry and Ginny.

I spoke up. "May I go with you, Ginny? It'll save us another trip. We can get it altered today instead of waiting like we had decided last week."

She smiled even wider. "Yes! That would be perfect! Let me just go grab my cloak," she headed towards the door. She turned back to us. "Oh, and it's supposed to rain today in London. You should bring your cloak also." I nodded and followed her out of the kitchen; Harry trailed behind us both. He seemed unwilling to venture into the realm of "girl plans."

_**LATER**_

We stepped out of Madam Malkin's shop with two dresses covered in a thick, water-resistant fabric. Ginny had insisted that we purchase them—she even paid—even though we could have used magic to keep the rain off of them.

"I don't want _anyone_ seeing them who might possibly tell Harry or Ron," she explained to me once we were standing outside of the shop, pulling on our own cloaks as quickly as possible to avoid the rain. I gave her an understanding nod. If we hadn't bought my own dress at a muggle shop where the bags already aren't see-through, I would have done the same.

The alteration process had taken longer than I had originally estimated. We had been gone several hours—enough time for Diagon Alley to fill with various witches and wizards seeking a variety of items. I noticed that among them were many families, hands full of books and cauldrons and supplies. I wondered how many of them would know me in just a few months. I suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, Ginny, can we stop in here for a few minutes?" I pointed to the apothecary down the lane.

"Sure," she agreed easily. "What do you need from here?"

"A new cauldron, for one. And some ingredients for my own use."

We walked down the street in silence. I pushed the door open quickly, and stepped inside, but not before I saw a group of people my age glare at me across the alley.

Lovely. Now _everyone_ seemed to dislike me. As if my husband hating me wasn't enough.

I stepped through the door, restraining the tears that wanted so much to overflow.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: So this chapter is a combination of a lot of things. I hope you all enjoy it. Severus and Hermione definitely aren't done with their relationship problems but... Well, I'll let you read it. :) **__**Also, I'm sorry for the long gap between updates. Between moving, the flu, and double ear infections, it's been difficult finding time to write. And then, when I did, I didn't have WiFi.**_

_**I hope this chapter was worth the wait! **__**As always, thank you all for the reviews. They mean more to me than I could ever express in words.**_

I glanced at the clock on the wall of the sitting room in the Burrow. Almost ten. Shit. I didn't want to go back. Today had been so refreshing. After Diagon Alley, I had helped Ginny move stuff from Grimmauld to the Burrow so that the final set-up process could begin the following day. Mrs. Weasley had welcomed me with open arms.

"_I'm so glad to see you!" She had exclaimed affectionately as she hugged me tightly. "And I know Ginny appreciates all the help, too."_

"_I appreciate _her_, Mum, not just what she does," Ginny had added, rolling her eyes. She had smiled at me, though. I couldn't help but smile back. _

I looked up from a book I had borrowed from Ginny as Ron walked into the sitting room from outside. "So he hasn't killed you?" His voice rang with absolute seriousness. I looked awkwardly at the floor.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley scolded her son without missing a beat. "That is unnecessary and downright rude. I do not want to hear you say something like that to Hermione ever again."

He rolled his eyes when she had left. Ginny stood against the back of the couch, where she had been reading over my shoulder, but now was glaring at her brother.

"At least her's speaks English," Ginny retorted, quiet enough not to draw Mrs. Weasley's attention. Ron's cheeks darkened into a deep red.

I couldn't keep myself from voicing my curiosity. "She doesn't know English?"

Ginny giggled and shook her head. "She sent Ron a letter yesterday morning. It was in French. Ron had to ask Fleur to translate it for him."

I couldn't help but smile. Ron glared at me.

"To make things even better, it was super lovey-dovey. Like, all 'I Love You' and 'I Can't Wait to Spend the Rest of My Life with You.' I don't know whose face had the darker blush, his or Fleur's." Ginny's laugh was so refreshing. I joined in easily.

"Oh, shut up, Ginny," Ron said scathingly, leveling a glare on her, before storming out of the room.

His reaction brought me up short. I stopped laughing and looked down the hallway where he had left to go up to his room. I stood there, trying to figure out why his reaction had bothered me. I mean, he hadn't said it to me, and Ginny certainly didn't seem to be bothered. So why did I have, for the first time since I had left Hogwart's this morning, anxiety building in my stomach?

And then it slammed into me. Well son of a bitch.

"Nice to know you have more in common with Severus than originally thought," I called down the hall, a small smirk on my face.

Ginny looked at me with incredulity. "_What_ did you just say?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "He's just as rude," I told Ginny in a whisper. "His intonation is perfect, too." She laughed a little bit.

"I'd love to see you explain that to him. He's got himself _convinced_ that he's worlds above that man."

I looked back down at the book in my hands. I played with the earmark at the top of the page. I couldn't even confront Severus. How could I confront Ron about being like him? I changed the subject, just a little bit. "Severus is actually prone to kind deeds. Like, he made me dinner last night—he had found out somehow that my favorite food when I'm stressed is grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup. And when I had a panic attack the first night, he helped me through it." I sighed. I noticed that Ginny was silent behind me. "Now if only I could figure out what kind of roller coaster he's decided to ride. I honestly feel like I'm getting whiplash from all of his back-and-forth nonsense."

Saying that lightened this invisible weight I had subconsciously been carrying on my shoulders. I felt truly refreshed. That really was the problem. I had no idea if he would be kind or scathing whenever I spoke to him. Now… How did I deal with something like that?

I glanced back up at the clock when she didn't say anything. Now it was almost eleven. I definitely had to get back. I told Ginny this.

"Alright. You'll be back here tomorrow to help with everything?" she asked as she walked with me to the door to the garden. "I enjoy having you here. You help me keep my sanity." I smiled when she looked at me.

"Of course I'll be here. What time do you want me?"

"As early as you're willing to be here," she admitted honestly. "Ron's Frenchie is coming tomorrow so…" She trailed off, leaving me to conclude for myself.

I grimaced a little bit. I thought back to when I had woken up this morning. It had been around five…maybe six. If I purposely slept in—or pretended to, at least—then maybe I wouldn't have to talk to him until I could get my feet back under me.

"How about seven? If you don't mind me coming for breakfast?"

Ginny's easy smiled flashed across her face. "That would be perfect! I'll make sure Harry doesn't come until eight. We can have some girl time in the morning." I smiled back. She was nervous about _something_. We had had well over three hours of uninterrupted girl time in Diagon Alley today. Oh well. Nerves were normal when it came to big stuff like this. Nerves were good.

I stepped into the darkness of the Burrow's garden. I waved to Ginny, who waved back and smiled, before tucking my cloak in around me and turning sharply to the left.

The cold air that smelled distinctly of Hogsmeade slammed into me just as the suffocating tightness lifted. It was chillier here, up North, than it was at the Borrow. I mean, it was only a few degrees difference, but I still wrapped my cloak tighter around me. As I walked up the grounds to the old castle, where I noticed only a few windows glowed with light, I wondered if I was shivering because of nerves rather than some arbitrary temperature change.

Yeah. Probably. Who the hell was I kidding? I had no idea what the hell I was doing with the relationship inside this castle, not like at the Burrow. Although…I thought back over the night as I started the climb up the various staircases.

No one had said anything. Ginny or Mrs. Weasley had probably threatened death or something equivalent. The only person who had made any kind of direct reference to my marriage was Ron. And Mrs. Weasley…She had looked at me differently. Something more…grown up.

I laughed out loud. Talk about over analytical. She probably looked at me the same way she always does. It's me who's being over sensitive. Self-fulfilling prophecy or something. I expected them to all look at me weird, differently, so I imagined up just enough to satisfy my subconscious.

"Dumbledore," I muttered to the gargoyle in frustration. Count on me to over analyze things that are complicated enough without my help. The gargoyle obediently leapt aside and the staircase began to spiral around it. I stepped onto the highest step and waited for it to come to a halt.

Deep breath. Open door.

One candle was burning, but it was obvious he had retired to the living quarters. I walked across the study and anxiously walked down the staircase into the study, flicking the flames behind me. But he wasn't in there either. Perhaps he had already gone to bed? Damn. Maybe I did have some luck then.

The candles, again, obediently went out as I left the room and walked into the bedroom. Sure enough, Severus was curled up, facing where I would normally be in the bed. It seemed like he had been asleep for a while. I walked as quietly as possible to my dresser. With him asleep, I didn't bother going to the bathroom to change. I draped my cloak over the dresser and then stripped quickly out of the sun dress. I pulled on my traditional warm, cotton pajama pants and a similarly colored long sleeved cotton shirt.

I pulled my hair down out of the bun I had haphazardly made when I was helping Ginny with moving items to the Burrow and then brushed it back up into a ponytail. With that done, I rubbed my scarred forearm in agitation before turning around. I found him in the exact same position as I had when I walked in. Definitely asleep. I pulled back the covers and snuck in between them, doing my best to not disturb him. I turned away from him, though I couldn't help but move close enough to him that I could barely feel his knuckles on my back.

I was asleep in seconds.

_**TIME**_

That's how the week leading up to Ginny and Harry's wedding went. In the morning, I would pretend to be asleep until he had decided that some other part of the castle needed to be depressed or something, I would get ready as quickly as possible and then head down to Hogsmeade to apparate to the Burrow. Once there, Ginny and I would have about an hour to talk, and then the entire day would be spent preparing for the wedding. I wouldn't return to Hogwart's until well after ten every night. I had gotten accustomed to changing in the bedroom.

One conversation with Ginny came back to mind as I walked the grounds the night before her wedding.

"_Just my luck!" She cried to me once I had gotten inside the door. She kept her voice to the barest whisper. "Mother nature decided to visit!"_

_I patted her hand sympathetically. "It'll be alright," I assured her. She looked at me, clearly on the verge of despairing. I spoke faster. "He loves you. He'll understand." I smirked at her, just a little. "Besides, you might be able to fool your parents, but I know you too well. You've already done stuff."_

_Her blush bordered on adorable. I laughed. Loud. She smacked my hand. It only made me laugh harder. She glared at me for a moment before softening into her worried look again. "You don't think he'll mind?"_

"_It might bother him," I told her honestly. "But he'll have to get used to it anyway. He'll get over it. If he has a problem, then just remind him that at least he'll be _getting_ something." _

_She instantly settled into seriousness. "You haven't…?"_

_I shook my head in disgust. "No. Definitely not. I mean. Eww. He can't even decide if he likes me. I'm definitely not putting out to _that_."_

"_But maybe…"_

"_Absolutely not. He'll have to learn to deal with me before I give him that." _

_And then Ron walked into the room, effectively ending the conversation._

I walked through the barely lit study that I had grown accustomed to and down the stairs before realizing that the light coming back up into the stairwell was brighter than it normally was when I came back this late. I stopped short at the entrance to the study, surprised by what I saw. Severus wasn't just awake this late.

He was pacing.

I didn't make a sound. We hadn't talked to each other since the morning I left angrily to Grimmauld Place. I knew that it was immature to avoid him like I had been, but I honestly didn't know how to deal with whatever emotional back-and-forth he seemed to be intent on living with. It wasn't every day that I didn't know how to do something, and since the War—and everything that happened during it—I found myself unable to confront conflict like I had once been able to.

His hands fisted at his sides as he turned around and started back towards the other chair. He wore the same outfit as the night he had made me dinner. I tried not to stare at the way the tight fabric clung to his muscles, tense and lean. I noticed as he turned to return to the other chair in a pace that was quickening with every pass that his hair was about three inches shorter than I had ever seen it. Exactly straight edge. Magically done. His hair now only went to about the middle of his ear; it made him seem much younger than I knew he was. It made his nose more prominent than before, but I couldn't find any real disgust in me concerning that. I felt desire begin to peak around the cage I had formed around it this last week.

Well son of a bitch. Now I really wanted to puke.

He muttered something, but I couldn't tell what. Should I let him know that I'm here? Will he be able to tell I've been watching him? What do I even say? What's his problem anyway?

Before thinking it through—because if I did, I knew I would leave—I knocked my knuckles on the door frame. His pacing stopped at once, and he turned around quickly to look at me. His eyes changed almost as soon as I could see them. I didn't know what they had been holding before I had made myself known to him, but now all they held was icy distance, even resentment.

"Where the hell have you been?" And there was the roller coaster again. Well, about time I enjoyed the ride.

I made sure my voice was normal. "The Burrow. Like I have been all week. Weddings don't put themselves together."

"You're later than normal."

That stopped me. I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know what I time I've been coming back?" I asked suspiciously.

"You wake me up every time you get into bed." Then he sneered at me. "Not to mention you breathe louder than anyone else I have ever met. It's like a fucking wind storm next to me all fucking night."

I ignored the last bit. Glad to know he still hated me.

I woke him up? But…He never did anything when I got in bed. He didn't even move. I bit my lip. How did anyone play that off? If I had woken up, I wouldn't have been able to hide it. And what did he have to gain by pretending to be asleep?

"Why did you pretend to stay asleep?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'd like to know!" I naturally yelled at him. "I'm entitled to know!"

He stared at me for a moment. I saw him unclench and then clench his fists again. "It's the only time that you smile," he whispered.

Wait…What? I put my hand against the back of my neck. Fucking whiplash. "What?" Because I needed a minute to figure out what the hell to do with that—and if he actually meant it.

"You're miserable here. Just like you said you would be. But when you sleep, you look so peaceful, and after a while you start smiling. Last night you even started hugging your pillow to you." He paused. Like the teacher he was, he was giving me time to absorb the information. I felt the blush creep out across my cheeks. Last night I had dreamt of him. And of…stuff. I noticed that he was sneering at me again. "But then you open your mouth and then I remember why I couldn't fucking stand you as a student."

"Stop!" I told him, more strength in my voice than I had used in a very long time. I was so fucking done with this whiplash shit. His eyes hardened. "Enough with the back-and-forth bullshit. Either hate me or want me. For the love of Merlin, don't try to do both as much as fucking possible." My voice was consistently getting louder. He had taken a step back. I found that I couldn't stop my confrontation with him. It disturbed me more that I didn't _want_ to.

"I don't—"

I cut him off. "Just SHUT UP." And then I was yelling.

He obediently shut his mouth, but I could feel the iciness rolling off of him.

"Just pick a side, alright? I'm so fucking tired of never knowing if you're going to explode in my face or have some kind of peace offering gift for me. If you can't stand me, then act like it. ALL THE TIME. Don't do this 'I hate you' shit and then decide in the middle that you really like me and that you want me. I've gone through enough emotionally damaging events. I don't need my fucking marriage to add to it."

He didn't say anything. Neither did I. Finally, he broke the silence that stretched between us like ice.

"I don't hate you."

I laughed coldly. "Sure you don't."

"I don't," the precision of his words gave away just the amount of emotion he was hiding. He was hiding behind his defenses, but he wasn't confident that they would hold. He was being careful. I laughed again, just as coldly, mocking even. "I want you. But why should I show you that?" Now the bitterness was seeping through. "You don't want me. Who would ever want me?" It was his turn for a bitter laugh.

The desire in the put of my stomach reminded me that it was there. It started to bubble; I felt the cage dissolve around it. Fuck.

I clenched my fists.

"See? You can't even supply a half-ass lie to placate me." He started walking toward the bedroom.

"I know what Draco wrote you," I whispered. For some reason I couldn't say it loud, with confidence.

He stopped.

"And…" I gulped. Fine. _Desire, you win,_ I told my stomach. I let the butterflies explode within me. Whatever the fallout, honesty was needed. "Get over your goddamned self-loathing." He turned around. His eyes burned with anger. "Besides, I really do…" I trailed off.

He raised his eyebrows. I swallowed convulsively. Strangely, the desire and nerves and everything else swirling in my stomach gave me courage. I pulled it all into me. Tight.

"Draco was right about me," I said instead of saying it outright.

He froze. His eyes locked on mine, and they bore into me with such intensity that I was sure he was looking into my soul. The desire ramped up a few notches while anxiety lowered the smallest amount.

He didn't say anything, but in just two strides he was standing right in front of me. He wrapped his left hand around my neck; his right pulled my hips into him. His lips slammed against mine. I let the desire festering in me explode; I let it overload my senses until I was pulling at his own hips, holding him tightly against me. I felt him turn us, and then I felt the coolness of the wall against my back. He held me against it. He let his left hand trail down until it was resting on my collar bone.

My lips faltered in the kiss when he lowered it to my breast.

His reaction was instant. He pulled away from me, pushing himself against the wall opposite me. His eyes were hard, distant. But I was able to recognize the hurt he was trying to hide.

"Yeah," his voice dripped with bitterness. "Sure you want me."

I walked up to him. He glared at me when I purposefully put both my hands on his hips. "Yeah. I do." I stopped for a minute, pushed the desire back so that I could think in a straight line that didn't head directly to the bed. "I wasn't lying when I said that I haven't done anything. There's a certain amount of uncertainty. Again, would you just get the hell over your hatred for yourself? Just because I hesitate doesn't mean I don't want it." I paused. I gulped. "It just means that I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do."

A corner of his mouth twitched in humor. "Then I suppose I am still your teacher," he said. And then he was kissing me again.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: I don't really have anything to say about this chapter. It speaks for itself pretty well. Setting up for some later things. Just as a warning, I'm going to be skipping most of August after this chapter to get on to more...interesting...things. ;) **_

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter. And, again, I appreciate all of the reviews!**_

Eventually we made it to bed. I changed in the bathroom while he did whatever he did while I was changing. As I put down my toothbrush, I looked in the mirror for a moment. My lips were puffy and redder than normal; my hair was frizzier than typical and pieces had fallen out of the ponytail. My face was flushed. _Wonder if he finds me attractive like this_? I shook my head and walked back to the bedroom. We had already established that he wanted me. Still…_Insecurities are a bitch_.

I found him sitting up in bed with a book in his lap, like I had the first night. He looked up when I walked through the bathroom door, placing my wand on my dresser as I passed it. The corners of his mouth turned up—barely. Hell, I had just made him smile. I mean, it really wasn't a change, but it was enough. I was going to count it. But that made the nerves grow again in my stomach. I fidgeted nervously with the sleeves of my shirt, tugging them down even though I knew they wouldn't show _it_.

With one quick motion I pulled back the sheets and climbed lightly into bed. I tried to move the bed as little as possible. As soon as the comfort of the sheets surrounded me, I realized just how tired I was. The yawn escaped me even though I was trying to see which book he was reading. He looked up at me, and his eyes filled with an emotion that, again, I had no name for; I had never seen it among his features. He dropped the book unceremoniously onto the small table he kept on his side of the bed and turned onto his side, facing me. I bit my lip on my anxiety and forced myself to position myself lightly in his arms, facing into his chest. I convinced my brain to keep in the present reality. It had been nearly a week since I had had a panic attack—no need to reset the count.

He rested his chin on my head gently. His arms were loose around me; he was giving me the option to turn away from the embrace at any time. Instead of doing that, I snuggled deeper into his chest, resting my head on his arm. I tried to stay awake, to soak in the moment, but it was difficult. My eyes didn't want to stay open, but I saw several light lines on his chest when I kept them from closing. I reached out and traced one of them; for some reason, I couldn't figure out what they were.

Severus's arms tightened around me. It suddenly slammed into me what they were. I pulled my hand away as if it had been burned. How was he able to have such bravery with these ones? Or any of his, for that matter?

"Sorry," I muttered. Curiosity burned in my chest. Where did these ones come from? Why were they there? Magic can heal most wounds without leaving a scar. Even Mr. Weasley's wound from Nagini had healed without leaving a scar. What had caused these? I didn't dare ask.

He didn't say anything, and in the silence, I found myself unable to fight off sleep any longer. I fell asleep in seconds, my arms held tightly against my chest.

**TIME**

I found Severus stepping out of the bathroom clad only in simple black pants when I woke up. The amount of bed left between the bathroom door and where I currently lay gave a good estimation that I was definitely on his side of the bed. I bit my lip at the idea. Had I accidentally kicked him off?

"You didn't force me off, if that's what you're biting your lip over," he told me as he turned to his dresser, pulling a shirt out of the top drawer. He wasn't cold or bitter, but he wasn't as warm as I might have expected. "Gave me one hell of a dead arm, though."

There was the snarky comment I had been expecting. I tried to keep myself from showing the disappointment on my face. He surprised me, though, in turning away from his dresser and pulling up one corner of his mouth.

"I'll take it, though, if that means I get to smell you all damn night long."

I blushed. There was something in being wanted. It made my insides turn all mushy and made me more prone to giggling than I traditionally was—unless I was with Ginny, but that was girl time and didn't really count.

I changed the subject. "You're not getting ready for the wedding?"

His eyes darkened at once. Shit. Not the right thing to say. I apologized quickly, not wanting whatever had happened last night to disappear again for another week.

"Don't apologize," he said. His eyes were still dark. "I did not receive an invitation." I opened my mouth to interject, but he cut me off before I could start. "And I know that Mr. Potter would not be thrilled with my attendance." He smiled a bitter smile. "Being unwanted is not a new experience, and my time is better served here. I've been working on the potion for Remus for the upcoming full moon. I need to create a stockpile before the beginning of term as my, uh, duties as Headmaster seem to take far more time than I would ever have guessed."

I bit my lip again. I watched him walk to the doorway before I managed to speak my mind. "I want you there." He turned around slowly. The hardness was gone from his face; soft eyes stared back at me, trying to comprehend what I was implying. "And if we're sticking to the whole 'formal invitation', since I'm your wife," I stumbled over the word—just a little, "then you, by association, are also formally invited."

I sat there, nerves building in my stomach, my hands fiddling with the hem of my pants as I watched him absorb that piece of information. Then, with slow, measured strides, he walked up to the side of the bed. He reached out his hand and placed it gently on my neck. "I will go. For you." I felt the smile play softly across my lips. "But understand that I am not welcome there."

I nodded, serious. I knew that they wouldn't respond well to Severus being there, but Ron's Colette would be there and… I mean, don't get me wrong, she was a lovely girl. But the whole relationship was so lovey-dovey, and a wedding didn't offer too many distractions from it. This one would be worse in that area than any previous ones. Ginny and Harry were one of the last to pair up, which meant most everyone would be wrapped in someone else's arms. And while I knew that Severus and I weren't like that, it would be easier to stomach it all if he were there with me.

I mean, seriously. There was Bill with Fleur—who was nearly five months pregnant. Percy with Penelope. George with Alicia. Fred with Angelina. Ron with Colette. Remus with Tonks. Even Neville with Luna—though they were on the rocks, especially with the Marriage Law. It was either get hitched now or risk being separated by a legally binding proposal. Neville was fine with getting hitched, but Luna had more reservations. If she didn't decide soon, the choice would be made for her. I just hoped they could live with whatever happened.

I brought myself out of my own thoughts. Severus had said something.

"Sorry, what?"

He gave me a disparaging look. I pressed my hands against the bed to keep them from playing nervously with my sleeves. "I assume you'll need to go early to help prepare everything?" I nodded. In fact…

"What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

Shit. I had to go soon. I told her I would be there just a little after eight. In reality, I didn't need to be there until almost ten, but Ginny had been so nervous when I had left the night before, I offered to come early. She gave us a two hour window to—I had no doubt—have girl time. She hadn't really asked me what married life was like; she probably saved those questions. What better way to distract yourself from the moment than to think about the future? I did it all the time.

"Ginny wanted me to go earlier than needed so we could talk. I'll need to go in a few minutes," I told him.

He grimaced. "Then I will go later. What time will I need to be there?"

The wedding started at three. Guests would begin arriving around two. We had planned on having Ginny—and everything else—ready by two so that both the bride and the bridal party would have some time to breathe. After my own wedding, I could see the wisdom in this choice. It had been stressful, moving right from getting ready to getting down the aisle. But, in all honesty, I wasn't sure how well Ginny would sit around for an hour. Hopefully her nerves were controlled enough that she wouldn't go stir crazy.

"Two?"

He grimaced again.

"I mean, you can come later, but I'll have some free time around two until almost three…" I trailed off, leaving him to imply whatever he wished.

"Then I will come at two."

I nodded and slid off the bed, deftly grabbing my wand off my dresser before turning around to face him again. "All of my stuff is there, so I'll just get ready there."

He walked into the study, and I followed him. "Alright," he said. He pulled a book from the wall and sat down in front of the fireplace. He didn't light a fire.

I stood there for a moment, unsure if I should leave or stay. His tone of voice had made it seem like he was done talking. But…I remembered another conversation I had with Ginny earlier in the week. Essentially, little things make people more appreciative of others.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked from the doorway.

He looked up at me in clear surprise. Had he thought that I had left? Perhaps I should have.

"I'm alright," he answered, looking back at his book. I nodded even though he wouldn't see. I pushed myself off the doorframe and walked to the staircase. "Thank you, though," I heard him say as I stepped onto the first step.

I smiled. "You're welcome," I responded, just loud enough for him to hear. And then I headed to Hogsmeade and apparated to the Burrow.

**TIME**

"Ginny, you look wonderful," I told her, rubbing her back encouragingly as she looked desperately into the mirror. "Trust me." She turned around, inspecting her dress from all angles. I couldn't help but smile at her worry. Of course it was spotless. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't allow anything less than that for her only daughter's wedding.

Her hair was pulled off of her face. It had been curled into small, delicate spirals, braided, and pinned back onto the back of her head; magic made sure dancing wouldn't make it fall out. Her eyes looked big and bright, surrounded by a delicate layer of makeup.

"Are you sure?" She asked, worry filling her voice and making it come out in a frantic whisper.

"Positive. You are stunning, Ginny," I assured her. "But you always are, so there's definitely nothing to worry about." I smiled encouragingly, placing my hand lightly on the small of her back. She stared into the mirror a few minutes longer, grappling with insecurities and worries and anxieties.

"Alright," she conceded finally. I smiled wider. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it; I squeezed back. She smiled at me. "I'm getting married," she whispered. There it was. She'd gotten past the nerves. I smiled again and glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. Ten after two.

"We finished on schedule," I told her. "Would you want something to eat? Some kind of snack?"

"That would be wonderful," she admitted on a sigh. "Is there any chocolate you could grab from the dessert table or something?"

"I'll see what I can find," I said and walked into the hallway, shutting the door gently behind me. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I was halfway through pilfering the desserts for the wedding, putting some chocolate onto a plate for Ginny, when I heard the eruption of voices outside.

"What are _you_ doing here?" George's voice.

I ran back up the stairs and dropped the chocolate off with Ginny. She looked me over once. She nodded, taking the chocolate, ushering me back to the door. I muttered my gratitude as I took the stairs two at a time back into the sitting room. Thank goodness Ginny had decided on a knee length dress for me. I was almost to the door when their voices picked up in volume again.

"You weren't even invited. Don't you understand the idea of other people's events?" Ron's voice this time. "Why can't you figure out that we all hate you?"

I pushed myself through the door and found Ron yelling at Severus, George and Fred standing behind them, their arms crossed over their chests. I couldn't help but notice that Severus was dressed in simple black dress robes—not the ones for our own wedding, but just as classy. The shirt was form fitting, and I found myself, again, admiring the way his smooth muscles moved underneath the fabric. Severus, to his credit, didn't hold a stance of aggression, nor did he appear to be angry. But I could tell in the careful way he held himself, his moth held tightly together, that he was fighting an inner battle.

"Shut up, Ron," I said coldly. Ron turned around, shocked by my sudden appearance. His cheeks burned red. He stepped aside when I walked up to him, letting me talk to Severus. I knew there was an audience, but I didn't really care. The fact that he had actually _come_… "Thank you," I whispered fervently when I was only a step away from him. I didn't reach out to him, nor did he read out to me. But I saw his eyes change from their emotionless defense to soft and warm.

One corner of his mouth turned up. "I said I would be here. I'm sorry I ran a few minutes late. I had enough time to do the next potion for Remus, but then Horace began talking about the school year…" He trailed off, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure that was a lengthy, unnecessary conversation."

He nodded then looked around. I noticed that the three Weasleys were still standing there. He leaned down so that my hair, which we had straightened and left down, was blocking his lips. "In all honesty, it's strange hearing him use your first name." I laughed. That was not what I had been expecting.

He didn't move, though, and I wondered if there was more he wanted to say. I was suddenly hyperaware of how near he was. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch him, wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him like I had the night before. Would he push me away, convinced that I didn't want him again? And then I remembered the audience we had. They didn't need to see that. And I wasn't sure I was brave enough to kiss Severus in front of them anyway.

I felt Severus lean in closer to me; I could feel his lips open again. "You look wonderful," he told me quietly. Ron and the others had no hope of hearing him. I blushed.

"I think I've seen better action from two strangers," I heard Fred mutter.

"Seriously," George joined in. I bit my lip. "Ron just met his, and they've already made it halfway to third. You'd think they'd be way further than that." I felt my cheeks heat with a different kind of blush. How rude. Not everything was based on sex.

I looked at Severus, and I saw irritation light his eyes. He raised one eyebrow. I bit my lip but nodded in answer to his unspoken question. He put one hand gently around my waist and leaned in to press his lips against mine. I placed my hands gently on the sides of his neck. His lips were soft, but he didn't taste the same; the woodsy flavor had been replaced with the mustiness I associated with the Potions classrooms. He had been definitely brewing this morning. I pulled away when there was a noise of surprise behind me.

"Holy shit," I heard Ron exclaim. "Harry, she's _kissing_ him!" When did Harry show up? And why the hell were people so shocked? I mean, we _were_ married. Severus didn't kiss me again, but gave me an exasperated look.

"Sorry," I whispered before he could pull far enough away that I would have to use a louder volume.

He shook his head. "Not your fault they treat you like you're on display." I giggled. His hands squeezed my hips. I bit my lip again. "What can I do to help you? That'll avoid some awkwardness I assume."

"I actually need to eat. I haven't eaten all morning."

He nodded and pulled away from me, dropping his hands to his sides. I turned around and did my best to ignore the group that was watching me. He didn't say anything, but followed me into the kitchen. I let out a relieved breath, thankful that the guys didn't have any more smart ass comments.

**TIME**

"Oh my gosh, Hermione!" Ginny said happily, Harry draped around her. His eyes stayed glued on her. "I'm married!" I smiled warmly. It had been a beautiful, simple ceremony. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had cried the entire time, but I was lucky enough to be standing right next to Ginny, so I got to hear all of it. Harry and smiled triumphantly when she had said "I do."

Now everyone had coupled up again. Ron had his arms wrapped around Colette, who smiled sweetly at me when she noticed me looking. I managed to smile back. Ron, though, didn't smile. He gave me a blank stare, as if I were a stranger. Maybe he viewed this as another betrayal. Whatever.

I looked around the crowd, which was significantly larger than I had been expecting. I should have, though, knowing that Harry held a superstar quality in the Wizarding world. I saw Kingsley Shacklebolt engrossed in a conversation with Percy Weasley. Tonks was animatedly talking with Fleur; I overheard something about childbirth and quickly redirected my attention. Not something I wanted to know about. Hagrid was there. He waved happily at me. I waved back. I seemed to be able to find everyone but the person I wanted. At last, on the fringes of the party, I found him in a conversation with Severus.

"I know that it'll be inconvenient, not having me on site after dinner, but I can't leave Tonks alone at night," Remus was saying. "And I won't make my family move into Hogwart's. That'll be too difficult for Teddy."

Severus stood there for a moment. "I can see that," he finally said. "Do what you think is best for your family. I will speak with Minerva about any possible fallouts. I know she spent a portion of her teaching career not living in the castle. Perhaps she could help you with the adjustment."

Remus nodded. I stepped into the conversation. Severus didn't seem to notice me. "Could I speak with you?" I asked Remus.

He looked me over for a moment, but then nodded. I led him away from Severus—who didn't object—and further away from the party. I didn't want people to overhear. I stopped when I felt we were far enough away.

But then I realized I didn't know how to ask him what I wanted to know.

He helped me. "What's going on, Hermione?"

I let out a breath, trying to figure out how to ask the question. "How did you get over your self-hatred when you married Tonks?" I asked quietly, looking at the ground.

He didn't say anything, and I finally looked up. He seemed thoughtful. "It took a while," he finally admitted. "Every morning I would wake up and have to fight with the voice inside me that said that she didn't want me or find me attractive. And then once I was able to silence that one, there would always be another one reminding me that I had brought a life of isolation upon her, a life of being an outsider. It would make me feel horrible. And then she would sit there, sometimes for hours, and remind me how much she loved me and wanted me and that she was willing to deal with the fallouts of her choice." He paused. "It got better after a few weeks. The voices finally stopped talking when I got up, but if there was anything that reminded me about it—like an article about a baby being born or stares at Diagon Alley—I would start receding back into those thoughts. I eventually got to a point where I was secure in knowing that she really did want me, no matter the cost, and I was able to settle into the relationship."

I nodded, biting my lip. Was that how it was with Severus? Had he read something in that journal the Malfoys had sent that had made him question what I had told him. There were so many demons, so many regrets…Would I eve be able to convince him to leave them behind.

"I assume your asking because of Severus?"

I looked up and nodded, my bite drawing blood from my lip.

"That man has a lot of regrets. It's going to take time to get through to him that you're going to be there no matter what." I nodded. I had already figured this out. I just…Knowing the real Seerus would help, I was sure of it.

"What about all his defenses? I mean, I can tell when he hides behind them, and he's never let me see what's behind them. Sometimes I wonder if he knows that they're there."

He nodded. "He's not used to having to be open with someone. My best afvice is to be consistent. Don't let the frustration into your interactions with him. That'll only make it worse. Fall into a routine. Maybe make him tea or offer him dinner or something/ Eventually he'll begin to open up to you."

I nodded.

"But Hermione," I looked back at him, and his face was drawn in concern. "There are regrets that go deep into that man's heart, that date back to when we were in school. It might take a while for him to be able to let those go. Several weeks, maybe months. He has only ever known rejection; if he hasn't, it was only because he was useful. Just make sure that, if nothing else, you show him that your feelings for him are not because of his usefulness to you."

I nodded again. I smiled slightly. "Thank you, Remus. That all makes a lot of sense. I'll do my best to hold true to your advice."

He smiled, too. "I need to go find Tonks now and see how Teddy is doing. It's starting to get late." I waved as he walked off. I took a deep breath and turned around to find Severus. He was standing on the fringes, and if I hadn't been looking closely, I probably wouldn't have noticed the stiffness in his shoulders. He was uncomfortable standing there.

I walked up to him swiftly, deftly dodging people who wanted to talk. "I'm sorry," I told Luna. "But I'm busy right now. Maybe we could catch up later?" She smiled and nodded, and I was walking past her.

I stopped when I stood in front of him. He looked down at me. "Do you want to go home?" I asked him quietly.

He gave me a martyred look.

I laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." I turned around, searching for Ginny. I found her in the middle of the dance floor. She happened to look up when I was waving to her. She stopped dancing and walked quickly up to me.

"Thank you so much for all your help," she told me fervently as she hugged me. I hugged her back tightly.

"Of course," I said. "Let me know when you've settled in, and we'll go get coffee or something." She nodded when she pulled away. She smiled again and then looked at Severus. "Thank you for coming," she said. It didn't seem like she wasn't faking the gratitude.

He nodded, and then placed his hands on my hips. We took several steps back. I smiled as I waved to Ginny; she waved back.

"One," I heard him murmer into my hair. "Two." I saw Ron look over at me, his arm wrapped around Cozette's waist. He didn't smile. "Three." We turned together, and then we were on our way home. I felt, for the first time in a while, contentment settle into my chest.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Alright, they are **_**finally _getting somewhere! There's still a chapter left before the uh...well, you know. ;) It's nice to see Severus be kind. Hermione certainly appreciates it!_**

**_As always, thank you for all of the reviews. I appreciated them all. I hope you enjoy this chapter! _**

Something about the wedding must have irked Severus because once the tightness lifted from apparating, he released me completely and didn't look at me as we headed back to the castle. Every few feet I would chance a glance over to him, but his outward appearance never changed from withdrawn and isolated. Irritation made me walk faster; he matched my pace easily. What the hell was going on?

He opened the doors to the Entrance Hall with a flick of his wand and stepped inside. Without a word to me—or a glance, for that matter—he headed towards the dungeons. _Lovely_, I thought in frustration. I started up the marble staircase and let my thoughts take over.

I scanned the wedding from my perspective. Nothing had seemed to bother him. His hands had been gentle on my waist as we had apparated to Hogsmeade, just as they had been when we had made out the previous night. And when we had kissed in the kitchen, away from the guys, he had been as gentle as ever—and certainly interested. I imagine that if we hadn't been standing in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen, we would have progressed as we had the previous night. It occurred to me that perhaps he was worried about why I had wanted to speak with Remus.

_No sense in waiting until he gets back up here_, I thought as I turned a corner and saw the gargoyle standing guard to our quarters. Instead of continuing towards it, I turned around and headed for the dungeons. I was down the final staircase in a matter of minutes. I hadn't had time to think about what I was going to say; I just knew I needed to make sure I hadn't fucked up everything.

I slowed my pace as I neared the personal workroom. The door was halfway open, and I could see Severus working over a cauldron. It must have been Remus's potion because it was a deep burgundy in color. I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to say. Eventually, after watching him take the cauldron off the flame and begin bottling the potion, I took a deep breath to collect myself and stepped forward.

The smell slammed into me like a train hurtling at full speed; I was on the floor, gasping for air, before I realized what was happening. In the distance, I heard something smash as it hit the ground and footsteps coming towards me.

My arm burned with the memory, as if she were etching each letter into my arm where I lay on the stone floor. I cried out in agony. My legs curled under me, but I left my arm stretched out, scared of her wrath if I moved it. I felt the tears begin flowing down my face, but I didn't have the strength to bring them back. My body shook with the sobs, the utter terror that overwhelmed my mind. Something touched my back lightly, and then the stone floor wasn't pushing against my side.

There was a faint, consistent tapping, and I had the vague idea that I was moving without moving myself. Heat enveloped me, all but the side where my arm lay, unmoving, out in front of me. I sobbed harder, knowing that she wasn't done in her torture. My arm tingled. I struggled to figure out what was real and what was memory. I couldn't tell where the memories stopped and reality began.

Slowly, like pulling a deeply embedded splinter out of your skin, I pulled myself out of the flashback. The sobs still shook me, but I could differentiate between then and now. Finally, I was able to regain my breathing and managed to stop the worst of the shaking.

I felt a cool hand brush my cheek, wiping away the tears that were falling much harder now than in the panic attack. "Son of a bitch," I muttered, trying to wipe them away. A gentle hand stopped me. After a moment, I gained the courage to open my eyes and face whoever had just seen all of that.

Severus's concerned face was only half an inch from mine. His eyebrows were pulled down in concern, and his eyes lit with compassion. "It's all right," he murmured. His voice drew me fully out; it was as if I could, at last, breathe clean air.

I pushed myself back from him, ashamed that he had seen. I ran into the back of one of the sitting chairs that were in front of the fireplace. It occurred to me that I was no longer in the dungeons. "Sorry," I whispered, keeping my eyes glued to my hands that were wrapped around each other in my lap.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out one of his hands and placed it gently on my cheek. His thumb brushed over my cheek bone lightly; it pushed away the last tears that had spilled over in my hysterics. "You're all right?" His voice was soft and layered with concern.

Was I all right? I was better now knowing that he was with me. But my mind still threatened to pull me back under. I forced myself to focus on him. I managed to nod slightly.

He nodded. "My apologies for leaving ingredients out that smelled of that place." I managed a laugh that bordered on hysterical. I had just had a panic attack, and he was apologizing to _me_? He raised one eyebrow. I found that I couldn't admit the reason for my laughter. He continued as if it hadn't happened. "Why did you follow me instead of coming up here?"

I took a timid breath. Part of me was worried that the smell would cling to his clothes—clothes, I noticed, that were not the robes he had worn to the wedding. When had he changed? And where did he put the robes he had worn? I shook my head the slightest bit to refocus myself. "I needed to make sure that I hadn't inadvertently fucked something up," I told him honestly. I was unable to meet his gaze, though, and instead looked at my lap. "You were so quiet on the walk up to the castle. You wouldn't even look at me. But you had seemed fine at the wedding. All I could think was that I had managed to upset you while—"

He hushed me gently. "I am…" he paused. "Having to explain my thoughts and subsequent actions to another person is an experience I have never had." He let his hand drop from my cheek onto my lower thigh. "When I saw you dancing and laughing and talking at the wedding, it occurred to me that of all men—all people, really—I deserve a relationship the least. And to have a relationship, whatever the progression, with someone as talented and beautiful and _wonderful_ as you…" He stopped, and I could see him struggling for words. He let out a breath. "My safe place, my escape, is the personal workroom in the dungeons."

I looked at him, trying to comprehend what he was telling me. He had never been this open with me. After a moment to collect my thoughts, I placed my hand over his and said, "You know that I'm inexperienced with all this romantic stuff. But, from what I _do_ know and have seemed to have experienced, I know that I want you and desire you. Whether or not you feel that you deserve it, it's still there."

He nodded. I pushed myself on.

"And, honestly, I feel pretty damn lucky to have gotten to marry you. You're smart, collected, grounded, and have learned to appreciate life. You're not naïve and have way more to give than you can probably ever imagine." I smiled a little. "And I am _very_ lucky to be able to potentially see it all."

He nodded again, though this one was much more measured, controlled. I could feel him beginning to slip behind his defenses. I already felt cold from the retreat. "Alright," he answered. "I…" He paused. He what? "I believe you."

I grinned. Finally, it seemed like I had gotten past his defenses. Maybe I would be able to see the Severus that he kept hidden all the time. "May I ask you something?"

One corner of his mouth turned up. Yes. A smile. "You already have."

I giggled a little bit. That was true. "Well, then, I'll just ask it." I stopped and formulated my thought. "I know that there are years of walls that you've built, probably for self-preservation." His eyes tightened. I gulped. "I really want to know the Severus that you keep hidden. Would you be willing to let me?"

He looked at me intently. I bit my lip at his hesitation. After a few moments, he nodded. "I will try."

I nodded and squeezed his hand tightly. I leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly. "That's enough," I whispered into his ear.

**TIME**

The end of July bled into the beginning of August with few happenings. Severus and I would wake up at different times, so by the time I was dressed and ready to work on whatever needed to be done, he was already a few hours into a potion., I wouldn't dare bother him when he was brewing. I wasn't sure if he would be irritated by my being there, or if he would welcome the intrusion. And, to be honest, part of me was nervous I'd have another panic attack.

Professor Slughorn didn't really allow me a chance to interrupt Severus while he was brewing, anyway. The first week he had me completely reorganize the storage closet, with its thousand ingredients. It was a stressful task, and often left me frustrated—mostly because it stole from me the possibility of becoming brave and talking to Severus when he was only across the hall from me.

Instead, though, I found that he and I had interesting, engaging conversations, when I was released by Professor Slughorn, and he decided to be finished brewing or writing or whatever was his project that day. And afterwards, we would let ourselves see how far the relationship naturally progressed…romantically.

I blushed at the thought as I climbed onto the final stair guarded by the gargoyle. The conversations we had were wonderful. I loved that Severus had really begun opening up to me; it made it easier to be open with him. But what came afterwards, before we went to bed, was…bliss. I smiled, remembering how he had caressed me the previous night. I stepped through the opening at the bottom of the stairway and into the study. My smile spread wider across my face.

Severus sat in the chair that had quickly become "his", facing the fire that blazed healthily in the fireplace. In front of him on the coffee table sat dinner—grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, just like that first dinner. I walked up to him.

"You're not getting laid," I joked with him.

I heard him sigh. "All this work, and it amounts to nothing." He sounded exasperated.

I laughed. "Whatever. Take it up with mother nature." I flicked my wand, and the chair that had become "mine" flew in behind me. Right next to where he was currently sitting.

I saw him frown. "Damn," he muttered. I smiled again.

"How about we eat, and I can ask you some questions concerning the most recent book I've read for Professor Slughorn?" I asked to change the subject. I might joke about having sex with him, but the idea still scared me. To open myself up _that _fully just freaked me out.

But he nodded, and that kept me from freaking out about something that wouldn't be happening tonight. I mean, mother nature really _had_ visited me the morning before. I grabbed the plate that only had one sandwich on it

"Which one did he have you read this time?" He asked after a moment.

"The one by Grishom."

"The one about how Potions and Transfiguration are similar?"

"Yeah, that one."

He laughed. Like, downright _laughed_. I bit my lip. "That book is a waste of parchment. That man doesn't even know what the hell he's talking about."

"Not true," I retorted. "He makes several strong points regarding how both are important in today's wizarding society."

He leveled a look on my. I tried to breathe normally. "That guy has never _once_ studied potion making in any depth. If he did, then he would understand that creating a successful Polyjuice Potion is _nothing_ like becoming an Animagus. And you know that."

I bit my lip and felt the blush spread lightly across my cheeks. Damn that man for being right. I placed my plate precisely on the corner of the table. I didn't look at him. Instead, I grabbed the book he had been reading—presumably while waiting for Slughorn to release me—and opened it to where it was earmarked.

"You manage to be even more beautiful when you're irritated with me," he murmured. I looked up, startled by his sudden closeness. "Part of me is tempted to make sure you're always this irritated." I scowled at him, though it was with effort. I could feel his breath blowing softly against my face, he was so close to me. I struggled to pay attention; his body fought for my time. "But then I always decide that my time is better spent doing this."

He leaned in, wrapping his hand around my neck, and kissed me fiercely. I kissed him with just as much intensity. My hands came up to wrap around his neck, and I pulled him closer to me. His other hand came to rest on my hip,. I kissed him even harder. Slowly, with precision that drove me insane due to the desire that boiled within me, his hand left my neck and trailed down my body. My body arched into his light touch, spurred by the flame that burned in my center.

I felt him smile against my lips. I bit his lip for the teasing. He bit me back. A moan escaped my lips, much to my horror. I felt his smile grow larger. The bastard. I pushed against his hand harder.

Eventually, it came to rest on the top bottom of my clouse. He paused, though, and I nodded quickly, expressing my willingness to continue without breaking the kiss. He nodded, too, breaking the kiss, and then began undoing the buttons. I was surprised that he kept his eyes glued to mine. Was he scared to look? Or was he making sure that I understood that he appreciated me for more than just my body? Or was he nervous that he wouldn't like any of it?

When he had finished helping me ou of the shirt, he sat back on his heels. He raised one eyebrow in question. I gulped but nodded. His eyes, slowly, turned away from my eyes. I fidgeted nervously under his gaze. I saw his eyes darken as he took me in. He liked it, then? He reached a hand outl my breath caught in my throat. Gently, he touched my left forearm. I bit my lip. _Shit_, I thought frantically. _My scar_.

He leaned forward, looking intently at where his hand lay. I swallowed convulsively. I purposely forced my mind to not think about what lie under his hand. I'd already had a flashback today, no need for a second one. He trace dhte letters lightly; it was almost sensual how they barely brushed my skin.

"No matter what my own arm says," he looked back up at me. His eyes sparkled with a heat that made me breathless. I squirmed under the intensity of it. "You're not mud." And he leaned down until his lips brushed the uppermost part of the scar. Then he moved slightly down and kissed my arm again. It dawned on me that he was kissing each letter.

I felt slow tears overflow from my eyes. The idea that Severus Snape, former right hand man of Voldermort, could be so kind—so docile—brought me up short.

For the first time ever, I felt love begin to take root in my chest.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: So... I'll just warn you now: I left you with one hell of a cliffhanger. *evil grin* But all evilness aside, I felt it important to let the next scene to stand alone. I hope you enjoy this chapter. This one came easily, so I find that I enjoy it more than other chapters I have written. **_

_**Again, please review. They always make me smile like some kind of dork. :D **_

_**Also, I'd just like to let all y'all who read this know that I'm open to ideas regarding other stories. (Comissions of sorts.) It keeps me busy and allows me to write something other than this story, so it keeps me from getting tunnel vision. Thank you all so much for reviewing and favoriting! **_

"Thanks for letting come with you," Ginny thanked me _again_ as we stepped into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

"Ginny, I've already told you a hundred times that you are always welcome to join me. I love shopping with you," I looked over at her and smiled warmly. "Besides, I miss seeing you all the time. It's strange not seeing you every morning when I walk out of my room."

She smiles at me, but it doesn't touch her eyes. Something's bothering her. But I knew that when she sent me a note asking if we could go shopping together. That was Ginny's default way of saying that she needed girl time as soon as possible. And, hey, I needed to make a trip to Diagon Alley. It would just last longer than, perhaps, Severus would like it to.

I smiled at the thought. He was always so attractive when he was frustrated. It made his eyes darken and his shoulders hunch the smallest amount.

"I'll need to stop at Gringott's first," I told her as we walked up the crowded street. It was only a few weeks until the school term started, and I saw several families rushing by, large books in tow and the occasional owl in tow. I bit my lip in minor anxiety.

"Why?" She asked.

"I need to pull some money out of the vault used by Hogwart's for supplies and such," I explained. "After Professor Slughorn made me reorganize the entire storage closet, he set me on making sure it was properly stocked." She nodded. "He said that he won't help me with planning lessons until all of the "housekeeping duties" are done."

"Alright," she said and opened the door to the Wizarding bank.

I handed an available goblin the key. He sized me up for a moment. I resisted the urge to blush.

"Right. Mrs. Snape, if you'll follow me," he said crisply. This time the blush crept across my face, though I tried to pull it back. It was the first time I had been addressed by my surname; it felt strange. I pushed the idea aside, though, because he led us through a different set of doors and to a cart. We both sat carefully, holding on tightly to the sides, and then the cart sped off, the goblin at its front.

I looked at the middle of the cart to avoid getting motion sick. They say you grow out of a lot of habits you have when you're a kid. Too bad getting motion sick wasn't one of them for me. After several gut-wrenching minutes the cart skid ungracefully to a stop. The goblin hopped out and walked up easily to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open for me. I stood on less sure legs; they wobbled threateningly as I stepped up to the vault.

I was immediately astounded at the amount of money in the vault. I knew that Hogwart's had a steady supply of income—just not to this extent. I took the bag off my shoulder and filled a section of it with money. I wasn't sure how much I would need, but I knew that a few ingredients—like wormwood and dragon's blood—wouldn't be cheap.

"Can I ask you something?" Ginny was right behind me. It didn't freak me out like it might have in the past. My panic attacks were becoming fewer, and the flashbacks only happened when a particular smell was present. I giggled at the memory of asking Severus the same thing. She raised one eyebrow. I shook my head a little bit. No need for her to know that particular story.

"Of course you can, Ginny," I answered her and climbed unwillingly back into the cart. As it sped back to the lobby, I made sure to watch her. She seemed distracted. She held herself closely, her arms wrapped around her sides, like she was cold. It didn't seem cold to me, and I normally was a pretty good middle ground in terms of temperature sensitivity. She looked out across the tracks from where we had come; I could tell the she was biting the inside of her cheek. Her foot tapped insistently. And when the cart pulled to a stop, she was the first one out of the cart, even before the goblin.

I didn't push her about whatever she wanted to ask. It was clearly something that made her anxious, and that wasn't something you wanted to force out of someone. When we were almost out of Gringott's, she sighed heavily beside me.

"He doesn't really talk to me anymore. He doesn't hug me when he gets home. He doesn't ask me how my day was. He just…sits in front of the fire, looking into it for hours at a time. I stopped waiting for him at night." She held herself well. If you were to look at her, it would seem as if something small was bothering her, like an inability to sleep peacefully or Harry not picking up his dirty clothes.

If only it _was_ something that small.

I sighed, too. "That's not a question," I pointed out, mostly in an attempt to have a few minutes to gather my thoughts. She wanted my advice. I just didn't know if I had any. We passed a group of witches about our age. I recognized Millicent Bulstrode in the group.

She looked at me and then rolled her eyes. "What do I do, then?" She asked.

I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to find an answer. Harry was so much different from Severus.

"Shows just how fucked up she is," one of the witches behind us not so quietly muttered.

"He's old enough to be her father. Bet you that he can't even get it up anymore. You _know_ she didn't do it for the sex," Millicent responded.

"Of course not," another one chimed in. I tried to tune it out so that I could find an answer for Ginny, but I couldn't manage.

"We all know it's for the fame. He has an Order of Merlin, First Class. And money. Lots of money."

An Order of Merlin, First Class? Apparently they didn't do their homework. I had one, too. I mentally shook my head. I led Ginny into Flourish and Blotts, locking down my own feelings towards the comments I had heard as I processed my thoughts.

"In the beginning, Severus would do that, too. He would just pull away, and I wouldn't know why. We went an entire week without talking." I walked through the bookshelves, towards the back. She followed after me, listening intently. I stopped at the end of a long bookcase, and looked through the books. Severus had told me of a book written by an actual Potions master. He didn't want me reading crappy literature or something like that.

"Eventually, I just got fed up with it and confronted him about it. I had become convinced that he detested me, and that he wanted out of the marriage." Ginny nodded. Hmmm…Perhaps Severus and Harry were not so different after all. "When I confronted him about it, I made sure I was the guilty part—mostly because I thought I had done something. And then I learned that he wasn't sure of my liking him. He had so many demons, so many regrets, that he had somehow convinced himself that no one could ever desire him, not even romantically, but just with a friendship." I took a deep breath. "I reassured him at every moment I could that I really did want him, even if my feelings at the time had been innocent. After a while, he started thawing out, and I could tell that he had really begun to believe me. But it took a little while."

She looked at me and leaned against the bookcase. Her voice was the barest of whispers. "He won't even touch me anymore, Hermione. We used to…" She made a noise in the back of her throat. "And now he won't even _touch_ me. How does that work?"

I looked at her, and the desperation in her eyes made them bright and wet.

"Make him listen to you. Some part of his brain is convincing the rest of him that withdrawing is best. But don't push him physically," I told her. "He'll view that as an intrusion and with pull back even more."

She nodded, and she seemed encouraged.

"Just make conversation with him. Make a routine," I added, remembering some advice Remus had given me at her wedding. "Like, with Severus, I make him tea every night after dinner, and then we both read in front of the fire. But he expects the tea now because it's just what I do for him."

I saw a glint of smile. "That sounds like a really good idea."

I nudged her shoulder with mine. "It'll be alright. The first year is always the hardest." I looked back up at the bookshelf and searched more intently for the book that I had come here for. I found it at last, several minutes later, and I reached for it impatiently.

When I looked back at Ginny, she had her own book in her hand. She smiled. "Quidditch," she explained. I didn't want to know about it; Quidditch was not my forte. "So…" she paused, and I had an odd urge to blush. "How _are_ you and Severus? Besides tea?"

I blushed a little and grabbed a few more books off the shelf that seemed promising—they weren't by Cage or Grishom. "We're doing pretty well, actually. Once he figured out that I didn't absolutely despise him, and I figured out when he preferred to be alone, things got a lot easier."

"Have you…" she trailed off suggestively.

I felt the blush grow darker. "No. It's still…" I let out a breath. "It's nerve wracking. We've gotten close, but I freak out whenever…"

She leaned closer into me. "It's wonderful, you know. I mean, the first time is beyond scary because you're wondering if he's going to like you and stuff. But then…" She bit her lip a little bit. "It's so wonderful."

I blushed even more; I bit my lip nervously.

We walked in stride to the front of the store. Ginny paid for her book, and then I handed my books to the witch working. "Four galleons," she said, monotone. She didn't enjoy her job. I pulled the appropriate amount from a different section of my bag and handed it to her. She glanced up at me and then gasped.

Was everyone going to treat me like some circus freak? Dear God, I hadn't even slept with him yet.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Snape," she told me eagerly. I didn't recognize her; she must have attended a school other than Hogwart's. "I've read everything I can find about your work helping Harry Potter. I find it all very fascinating. You're actually one of my inspirations."

I smiled politely at her. Well, that was different. "Well thank you," I told her, taking back my books. I smiled again and walked out of the store, Ginny right by my side.

She bit her lip and turned to me. "I need to get back," she said. I wasn't even close to finishing my shopping list. But I nodded and smiled and pulled her in for a tight hug, making my books levitate obediently at my side.

"Don't worry," I whispered into her ear. "It'll be alright."

She nodded. "I know," she responded. "It's just difficult."

"Yeah." I almost laughed. "I know."

She pulled away and waved. I waved back. And then she turned quickly on the spot. With a loud pop, she vanished. I stood there for a moment, collecting my own thoughts. Poor Ginny. I should have seen this coming, though. Harry had so many of his own regrets and demons from the War. The only problem was that I wasn't sure he knew that there were walls. It made it easier for me, having Severus hyperaware of his defense mechanisms. Harry, on the other hand—I was pretty sure, at least—didn't even know he had defenses.

I sighed and headed towards the apothecary.

**TIME**

The rest of August passed uneventfully. After Slughorn's torturous requirement of having the storage closet reorganized and then restocked, I had a few days of down time. I found a little bit of courage and managed to interrupt Severus while he was brewing.

_I knocked gently on the door frame; the door stood open. He looked up in surprise, but his eyes quickly softened. _

"_You're welcome to come in," he said. He didn't take his hands away from the potion, though. _

_I walked in timidly. "What are you brewing?" I asked, motioning to the cauldron between us. _

"_A form of sleeping potion that allows for dreamless sleep," he said. I nodded even though he was looking down at the potion again. We were both quiet for a few minutes. I didn't really know what to say. After a while, he stopped stirring, and lowered the flame that was underneath the cauldron. He looked back up at me. "It needs to simmer for about an hour."_

_I nodded. I recognized the potion now; he was almost done with it. "Why are you making it?" I asked him, stepping around the table until I stood next to him._

_He looked down at me and wrapped his arms around me gently. "Because I know that your sleep troubles you often," he whispered. _

_I bit my lip. I traced his jawline lightly. He had become such a giver in the last few weeks. It still took my breath away._

"_You don't need to have flashbacks in your dreams, too. You need a place where you can escape," he told me. Then he smirked. "Besides, you're way more likely to make out with me if you've had a good night's sleep."_

_I laughed and leaned in to kiss him. He didn't miss a beat, and after only a few minutes I had to pull away to breathe. My heart was racing, and I could feel the flush of my face. There was a knock on the door. I pulled away from his embrace immediately, embarrassed. _

"_Hermione, if I could have a moment of your time," Slughorn nodded at me and then gestured out the door._

_I nodded and started walking to him. Severus kissed the top of my head quickly. I smiled and followed Slughorn out of the personal workroom. We walked down the corridor for a few moments before he said anything._

"_I trust your abilities with regards to proper Potion making," he said. "Because of this, I want you to teach the First and Second years immediately with the beginning of the school years. If you need any help creating lessons, I'm always open. That's why you study under me."_

_I nodded, shocked and downright scared. Me? Teach? Already? I felt horribly under prepared. _

I looked back to the basic Potions book the First years were supposed to study. My foot tapped nervously, and I chewed on my bottom lip. After underlining a particularly useful phrase concerning the importance of proper pre-brew preparation, I narrowed the outline for one of my first lessons.

Slughorn and I had had several discussions concerning the proper way to teach Potions and run a classroom. He thought it best to limit the amount of time to allow the students practice brewing and focused instead on lecturing. In doing this, there were fewer accidents and the overall quality of the potions was greater.

Severus, in the privacy of own quarters, shot down every viewpoint that Slughorn brought up. He, naturally, thought that lectures merely reiterated what the students should be learning through their homework. Classroom time, therefore, was better spent brewing the potions.

Personally, I sided more with Severus than Slughorn. Someone can study Potion making at his convenience, but time to actually bew the potions was only available during class. But I also remembered sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry and Ron, watching them struggle for hours over one of Severus's assigned essays.

So, ultimately, I had come to the conclusion that my lessons needed to be somewhere in between the two. I decided that for the First years, I would give two weeks to guide them into the idea of Potions and the process of creating them. For the Second years, since they already had some experience, I would only give a week for them to become acclimated with the environment again.

I glanced down at the rolls of parchment spread out around me on my desk. It had taken four different rolls of preachment—and several hours besides—but now I was suitably prepared for the first week of term. Slowly, I breathed a sigh of relief; a significant weight seemed to have been lifted from my shoulders. There was some security in knowing that tomorrow, when the students arrived, I wouldn't need to scramble for lessons.

With speedy hands I replaced the lid on the ink and placed it in the upper corner of my desk with my quill. I rolled the pieces of parchment and set them in a row, the First year lessons furthest left. Slowly, I stack the books into a pile in the opposite corner of the quill, the spines facing me—easier to know which book to grab. My hands stilled when I felt him standing behind me; he was so close that I could feel heat radiating from him.

With sure fingers he pulled the hair away from my neck and placed slow, calculated kisses down the column of my throat. Desire bubbled deep in my chest; I struggled to breathe normally.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Alrighty... And here it is. I'm beyond nervous for this chapter. It's the first one of this nature I have ever written. Parts of this have been written since I started this story. But...most of it is brand new. So please me nice. :) **__**Anywho, I hope you enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. It's a VERY long chapter, but I felt it best not to split any of it up. **_

_**Also, I'm not sure how often I'll be updating for a while. I will certainly do my best to update about every three days, but I'm back in school with 14 credits. (Nine of which are lab sciences...) So my time will be sparse to actually be able to sit down and write. But I promise to do my best!**_

_**Again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews, especially those who consistently review every chapter. It makes my day every single time! :D**_

His lips were only inches away from my ear, and yet he still did not touch me. "It's passed midnight," he murmured silkily. His voice flowed over me; I felt desire stir in unexpected places. "Come to bed."

I bit my lip, torn. It would be nice to lay next to him in the warmth of our bed, to allow the sureness that was him surround me…but the nerves running through me at the moment were just too significant. I slowly shook my head. "I'm too anxious," I explained. "I won't be able to sleep."

He placed a kiss right behind my ear. It sent this strange electricity through my body. I had felt it only a few times before when he had kissed and touched me. I naturally rolled my hips the slightest amount, and soon his hands wrapped around them, holding them firmly in his hands.

"Who said _anything_ about sleeping?" He pressed himself up against me, and I felt his desire to _not_ sleep pressing against my back.

The desire changed suddenly from a slow bubble into a deep, consuming fire across my skin. My breath hitched. He resumed placing methodical kisses down my neck, slowly moving down to my shoulder and then back up again. I tried to think around the fire that wanted so desperately to consume me.

We had been married for six weeks. We had progressed in our relationship at a rate that I felt was healthy, comfortable. He had learned to come out from behind his defenses—at least when we were alone—and had stopped assuming that he was always the problem when I hesitated with something. I had come to appreciate him for the little quirks that made him unique, like how he always read when he was preoccupied with something.

I bit my lip on a noise as he lightly bit my earlobe. He had taken to doing that recently, and it made it difficult to not make embarrassing sounds.

But, mostly, he had come to trust me. If I was gone for the majority of the day, instead of finding him pacing in the study, I would walk in on him sitting by the fire—often writing a letter to some member of the Ministry. And I had come to trust him. I knew that the unexplained mood swings were behind us. I knew that he told me honestly his view on any given subject. But, ultimately, I had come to trust that he wouldn't hurt me physically. I mean, he had seen my scar and had _kissed_ it. I had come to a point where I was ready for what he was suggesting.

That didn't eliminate the nerves, though. My heart started into hyper drive as I nodded once. His lips stopped their travel down towards my shoulder, and his hands held my hips a little bit tighter for a moment. But then he released me and held out his hand. My own hand shook as I placed it in his and came to my feet.

He turned me to face him. His eyes were dark with desire; they sent a shiver down my spine. "Shh…" he comforted me. He pulled me into a soft embrace and wrapped his arms around my waist. His bare chest was smooth under my touch. I ran my hand lightly from his collar bone to his hips. I traced the line of his hip until it disappeared into his pants. His arms tightened around me. _Does he like that? _I asked myself, biting the inside of my lip. _Should I follow it further, then?_ My thumb traced the edge of his pants as I toiled with the idea. I paused as his breathing hitched for a moment. A small yelp escaped my lips as he pulled me off my feet and into his arms. I tried to keep my breathing normal. He walked smooth, steady steps towards the bedroom. He was the epitome of calm. I measured my breaths with his footsteps.

Step. In. Step. Out.

He carried me through the door and into the bedroom and set me gently on my face. He stood there for a moment, a hand placed gently on the small of my back, making sure I had my balance before walking back towards the study. Although we left the door open at night, I heard him gently close it. I stood there, waiting for him to guide me, and stared at the bed. It was a strange feeling. I had slept in this bed—with him—every night for the last six weeks and yet in that moment it all felt brand new. I felt a panic attack pushing on the edges of my mind. _Was I _really _going to have a panic attack during my first time?_ I asked myself, exasperated and frustrated.

He pressed himself gently against me, and all thoughts of a panic attack vanished. His lips pressed themselves gently against the left side of my neck. My eyes fluttered closed, and I let my head rest against his chest. After a moment, he pulled my hips firmly into his. His hardness pressed insistently against the small of my back. I bit back a moan and managed to turn around without breaking physical contact with him. My lips slammed into his, and he responded with a ferocity that betrayed his calm façade. His footsteps were gentle, though, as he silently urged me further into the room. The edge of the bed coming into contact with my legs comforted me, and I soon found myself helping him take off my shirt. He didn't use magic. Honestly, I didn't know where my wand was—I didn't think he knew where his was either.

He didn't break the kiss as he slid my bra gently off my shoulders and dropped it ineloquently onto the floor at our feet. I felt cold and exposed but not uncomfortable. He raised his hand from where it rested on the bottom of my hip and felt me. I bit my lip. Hard. But I couldn't resist rolling my head back a little.

I heard him clear his throat. "I know I have said this before," he whispered as he leaned in until his lips were only half an inch from my ear, "but you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He pulled his hand away from me; I arched towards it. The tiniest of moans escaped my lips. He chuckled a little bit.

"Bastard," I muttered. He chuckled a little more. _Yes,_ I thought. _Definitely a bastard. A teasing, frustrating, irresistible bastard_. I kissed his neck just as he returned his attention to my breasts. I arched into him again and brushed against his chest. The feel of his skin on mine made me make a small noise in the back of throat. _God, what the hell is with all the noise?_ I thought, horrified but unable to stop.

He pushed insistently against me; the bed pressed more firmly against my legs. "Sit down," he murmured. I obliged quickly, trying to pull him with me. I didn't want to lose the feel of his skin on mine, but he resisted. I pulled my arms in and placed my hands in my lap. My breathing quickened from nerves. He looked me over, and I blushed a little as his eyes darkened even more.

After a moment, he dropped fluidly to his knees in front of me and placed his hands on my knees. I breathed heavier. He placed a soft, chaste kiss on the inside of my knee. I giggled a little bit; the idea of him being so gentle with me was still so surprising. He looked back up at me, his eyebrows rising inquisitively.

"You find me amusing?" He asked.

"I find you surprising," I murmured back. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile that I had grown to love.

"Really?" He asked, his voice flowing over me. "We haven't even started yet."

I shivered a little at his implications. He chuckled a little more, and it made my knee vibrate. It sent chills to my core. He ran his hands up my thighs, the callouses on his hands scraping across my skin in a way that made me grind my hips into the mattress. I rolled my eyes a little to try to control my reaction. I already felt like my senses were being overloaded, and he was right about having just started—if this felt amazing, how would the rest of it feel? His hands caught the edge of my skirt and pulled it with them as they traveled further up my legs until they reached where my thighs met my hips. And then, after a moment, he pulled his hands back down my thighs. I ground my hips harder. His touch was feather light. I noticed that my skirt didn't come back down with them. I gulped, self-conscious, as he sat back on his heels and raked his eyes over me.

Once. Twice. A third time before he looked back up into my eyes. They were the darkest I had ever seen them and held a primal hunger just under the surface. I could tell he was trying to control whatever desire he felt. Part of me wished he wouldn't, but then he trailed one hand to the inside of my thigh and brushed my core lightly, and I realized how much I was _not_ ready for him to release it. I bit my lip on a noise and rolled my head back. He touched me again, more firmly this time. I pushed against his hand, and he stroked down my core. It didn't feel as intense as the first touches, but it still made my stomach tighten. He brushed back up, and I found that I couldn't resist grinding my hips against him.

He chuckled the tiniest amount. I bit my lip harder to keep more embarrassing noises from escaping. And then his hand disappeared. I looked back at him and found his hands on the top edges of my skirt. My breath left me in a rush, and I couldn't seem to be able to pull in a new one. Severus's eyebrows pulled down in concern. His hands stopped their worrying at my skirt, and he instead wrapped them around my waist. He stood back up onto his knees, leaning forward until he was kissing me. I pulled in a sudden, deep breath. This was something I knew, that I understood; I didn't have to expose any more of myself to do this. I twisted my hands into his hair, tightening my grip when he separated my legs, pushing himself gently in between them.

His hands moved lightly over my skin; I moaned a little into his mouth. I felt him smile against my lips. I almost made a comment, but then he was palming my breast, and all I could manage was to not groan again. I pushed against his hand, following my natural inclinations. When he pulled away from me this time, though, I bit his lip. He groaned. I couldn't help my own smile.

He pulled away from me and, keeping eye contact with me, palmed my breasts again. My eyes rolled back a little, and I struggled to keep them open so that I could see him. "You're comfortable with this," he murmured, his voice rougher than I'd ever heard it. I managed a small nod. I was having a difficult time thinking in straight lines with his hands on me like that. His thumb brushed over my nipple, and his voice skated over me. "Do you trust me?"

I opened my eyes fully, pushing through as much of the desire as I could to focus on him. His eyes burned into mine, and the desire there left me breathless. "Of course, Severus," I whispered breathlessly. His hands skated back down to the waistband of my skirt. He raised one eyebrow; I bit my lip again. I let out a shaky breath and nodded. His hands pulled on my skirt, inching it down my hips. I noticed that he was taking my underwear with it.

"Lift up."

I lifted up my hips, allowing him to quickly pull my skirt down to the middle of my thighs. He paused then, and I lowered myself back down. I pressed my hands against the bed to keep them from shaking; part of me felt nauseous from the nerves. And then he placed my skirt and mundane thong on the floor by his feet. This time I felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Shhh…" he whispered, trying to sooth my nerves. God, Ginny had been right. How in the _hell_ did you open yourself up to someone like this? Here I was, sitting on the edge of the bed, Severus on his knees in front of me, completely _naked_. Like, not even underwear on kind of naked. How did people find enough trust to do this with someone else? I let out a shaky breath. But I _did_ trust him, so I didn't push him away when he placed slow, open mouthed kisses on the inside of my thigh, moving up towards my core. At least…not until he was so close that I could feel his breath on…me.

I reached out, putting a staying hand on his shoulder. It was shaking. _Well son of a bitch_. He glanced back up at me, obviously startled, but then his eyes softened when they met mine, and he was pushing against me, his lips gently interlocked with mine. I pulled away after a moment, embarrassed that I didn't have enough bravery for…that.

"It's all right," he said softly, his lips moving against mine. I reached my tongue out and traced his bottom lip. He laughed—it seemed as if he was completely at ease—but then his hands tightened on the top of my thighs, and I knew that he wasn't. "We don't have to do that." I reached out to him, wrapping my hands around his neck.

How many women had he taken to his bed? Several, I knew. And yet it was his wife—his _wife_—that chickened out with him. Would he view me as some poor child again, unable to grow into a woman? I certainly wouldn't be the best he had ever experienced. Indignation bubbled in my stomach at the thought. I loved this man; I wanted to make him feel how he had made me feel. So I let my hand trail down his chest again, but this time I didn't stop at his hip line. I let my hand continue down; follow it where it must go. I brushed his hardness with the lightest touch, but my hand shook as if I had just come out of one of my panic attacks. His hand came to cover mine, and he moved it back to his stomach. I clenched my hand into a fist.

"Sorry," my voice was the barest whisper. It betrayed the tears that I was fighting. I looked down at my hand fisted against his abdomen. His finger came under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't be," he told me, his voice husky. "We don't have to do any of that if you aren't comfortable with it." I swallowed nervously and managed a slow nod. He nodded, too, and reached out to run a finger softly along my cheek. His eyebrows pulled down in concern for a moment, and then he smiled one of his rare, sweet smiles that I saw only when he was the most relaxed. In that moment I knew that I could do this—open myself up to him in a way that I never had with anyone else.

I took his hands in mine and gripped them firmly, making sure that mine didn't shake. I pushed myself back onto the bed until my legs stretched out in front of me. I pulled him with me. He followed wordlessly, coming to lie on his side next to me. I traced the muscles of his chest, trying to find the words to say what I needed him to know. I bit my lip, and, after he didn't say anything or make any move to advance us again, I just blurted it out.

"I'm ready," I whispered. He pulled down his eyebrows in question. I leaned in and kissed him. "I may not be ready for the…other stuff," I explained quietly. I wrapped both of my hands around his neck, holding onto him firmly. "But…" I let out a breath. "I can do the rest." No, that wasn't quite right. "I _want_ to." Still not quite there. I let out another breath and kissed him again to find my courage. He didn't seem intent on stopping me, but he also felt more reserved than before. I pulled away after a moment. He needed to know. "I want to…make love…to you." The phrase fell uneasily from my lips.

His breath came out in a rush. He looked at me, his eyes poring over mine. I resisted the urge to bite my lip. I didn't want it to seem like I didn't want this. I did. I was just hella nervous. Then he nodded. I smiled. He smiled back at me, his eyes darkening again.

And then he was kissing me. He shifted his weight until he was above me, holding himself on his arms. They were strong and solid and taught on either side of my head. I looked over at the one on my right side. I traced his mark gently, running my fingers over the snake's body up to the skull. I noticed that his arm was trembling. I stopped, retracting my hand and venturing a look up at him. His eyes took my breath away. In the eight and a half years I had known this man, I had never seen him cry. And yet, here he was, kneeling over me, slow, silent tears running down his cheeks. I reached up, brushed them away, and cupped his cheek.

He let out a shaky breath. He turned his head and kissed my hand. I couldn't help but smile. I truly loved this man, no matter how improbable it was. He looked back down at me, and his eyes darkened again, the desire lighting them with a bright fire. I arched up into him; our lips met, and he fought with mine ferociously for control—I didn't relent. He shifted his weight onto his left arm and used his other to feel me, to memorize my lines and curves and planes. It wasn't long before I was panting, arching into his hands, moaning into his mouth.

"I know you think it's embarrassing," he muttered against my lips after I failed to hold in a groan as he pinched my nipple lightly. "But it tells me that you really want me as much as I want you." His words alone pulled another groan from me. It had become more difficult as we progressed to keep the noises at bay. But…he liked them? I moved my hands down his back, feeling his taught muscles. They tightened under my hands.

He kissed me again, and I forgot whatever response I had been planning on giving him. His hand trailed down my torso, stopping to squeeze my hip, before continuing until he touched my core with the lightest of pressure. I thrust into his hand, a whine escaping my lips. He looked down at his hand, a small smile playing across his lips. I pulled my hands up his torso until they rested on his shoulders and pulled him closer into me. He pressed his hand against me again, and I moaned, twisting my hand into his hair. He kissed my shoulder and pressed more firmly, his fingers moving in a swirling motion. I bucked into his hand, quickly dropping any previous notion of eloquence. I didn't know how he was doing it, but my stomach was tightening tighter and tighter. It felt like I was climbing something that promised that at the top there would be something extraordinary.

His hand didn't relent, and soon I was squirming beneath him, lost in the sensations coursing through my body. It seemed like too much; my senses were overloading. And then his hand was gone, his weight shifted, and his arm returned to its place by my head. He pressed his body weight more firmly against me, kissing me intently. I arched into him, and he pushed against me even harder. His hardness brushed against my core, and I bucked sharply into it. I untwisted my hands from his hair and ran them down his back until they reached his waist. I didn't hesitate; I didn't draw in a breath. I really, truly wanted this. In one fluid motion I hooked my fingers in his waistband and followed it around to the front. I worried over the button of his jeans for a moment before undoing it. The zipper went easily afterwards. I kissed his cheek, his shoulder, his neck before pushing them down as far as I could. He pulled off of me for a minute to pull them off the rest of the way; the moment of distance made me feel cold again. And then he was pressing against me again, and I realized something that sent a jolt of desire and nerves through me.

He didn't have anything on under the jeans.

His hardness pressed against my core, and my eyes rolled back. He hissed, his breath rushing past my ear. After a moment, he pushed himself up a little higher, his chest just barely pressing against mine. I looked into his eyes, forcing every ounce of love and desire I felt into them, hoping that he would see. His own eyes darkened, and his hands tightened on my hips. He understood.

He reached one hand down and positioned himself at my entrance after running himself across me a few times. I whined, biting his shoulder for his teasing. He groaned and pressed himself against me. My skin gave way around him, but he didn't push into me the rest of the way. I looked at him again, breathless. _Holy shit_, I thought. _This is really happening_.

"Ready?" His voice flowed over me, soft and husky. It sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded, though.

"Absolutely," I told him.

He nodded, and after repositioning his weight above me, pushed into me slowly. I bit my lip as I felt myself expanding to accommodate him. It wasn't comfortable, not at all, but he kept pushing in, slowly. He leaned down and kissed me softly. I clung to him, my hands gripping his neck tighter than before. And then… I felt myself tear, and a cry tore from my throat before I could restrain it. He slid the rest of the way into me. I bit my lip. But he didn't move anymore; instead, he held himself rigidly above me, absolutely still. His arms were unyielding on either side of me, and I noticed that his hands were clenched into fists.

I reached up and traced his cheekbone, biting back tears. He leaned down and kissed me slowly, gently. "I'm sorry," he murmured against my lips.

"Just…" I gasped as he readjusted an infinitesimal amount and slid in further. He cursed under his breath. "Just give me a minute, ok?" He nodded, holding himself perfectly still above me. His eyes were soft, and he placed soft kisses down my throat. Trying to distract me from the pain.

And it was painful. My skin burned from widening itself to accommodate the intrusion. But I could tell that if I could get passed the pain, passed the uncomfortable stretching feeling that it was right now, it would be something truly amazing. I seemed to leap considerably up the mountain of feelings I had been climbing earlier. It took my breath away.

I mean, I had just…I had just given him my last gift to give. I wasn't…a virgin anymore. His hips pushed against mine, and it reminded me that we were now as physically close as any two people ever could be. I could feel him _inside_ of me, his heat radiating through my core. And, well, wasn't that just amazing?

"Severus," I told him. He looked at me intently. I nodded, brushing back his hair, twisting my hand in it at the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. And then he started pulling back out. I gasped as he came back in so slowly. It didn't hurt half as much as the previous time, and the _feeling_. I moaned again as he brushed a spot inside me that was even more potent than the one he had found earlier. I pushed my hips into his. My hands trailed down his back. I kept getting higher on the mountain.

"It's ok, Severus," I managed to whisper. He brushed that spot again, and I grasped desperately at his back as my eyes rolled back. "You can go faster."

He sped up a little bit, and we settled into a comfortable rhythm. My hips came to match his, and each time we joined as deeply as possible, he touched that place inside of me. It made my toes curl, and my moans became progressively louder. My stomach was tightening at an alarming, nerve wracking rate. What was this leading to? What was going to happen?

"Severus—" I gasped, a particularly deep thrust pushing myself further into the clouds.

"Hermione." His voice was gruff, husky. It sent me even further to the edge. I was standing on the precipice of something huge, and each time he came back into me, stretching me in a way that seemed completely natural now, sent me even closer to jumping over. He let out a rush of air; it slid past my ear and tickled my neck. He brushed back into me, my hips rising off the mattress to meet his, and he brushed that spot again. My toes curled. I tightened my grip on his waist. "You're close?"

Close? What did he mean? Close to what? Him? Well of course I was. How could he _not_ know how close I was to him? And then he came back into me, faster than he had before. My hips slammed into his, and I almost fell off the edge within me. Was that what he meant? Close to the edge? Was I supposed to end up going over it? I nodded, buried my hands into his hair. "Yes, Severus. So close."

He nodded, dropping his head, placing open mouthed kisses down my shoulder and collar bone until he took one of my breasts in his mouth and sucked it gently. I arched into him. Hard. "It's alright," he murmured around me. It tickled me, and I arched even harder. "Come, my love. I'm here."

And he bit ever so slightly down on me. I flung myself over the edge. Complete. Euphoria. I sucked in a breath, and slammed my hips into his. It took me a minute or two—or ten, I wasn't really sure—before I could do anything more than slam my hips repeatedly into his.

"Sev—" I moaned against his lips the moment I could. He started coming into me faster, breaking the rhythm we had before. It was only a few times—a few deep, mind shattering thrusts—until he stilled over me.

"_Fuck_," he muttered. And then I felt something happen _inside_ me. A different heat. His hips moved sporadically, without rhythm, for a few more moments. Then it slammed into me—he had just… I mean, he had just…released himself inside of me. His hips stilled, and I saw him drift back from his own euphoria. I smiled, pushing away a strand of hair that clung to his cheek. I arched up so that I could kiss him.

Slowly he pulled himself out of me and adjusted his weight so that he lay next to me. I rolled onto my side so that I was resting against his chest. I was suddenly so tired. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest. I pulled my legs into me, wrapping them with his like we usually slept each night. I kissed his chest slowly, fighting to stay awake.

He kissed the top of my head, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"I love you," I murmured against his skin. I nestled deeper into him.

"As I love you," he replied.

And then I was asleep, dreaming of him and future possibilities.


	15. Chapter 15

**_A/N: So... I'm back. Sorry about such the large gap between updates. Part of it was that life got really crazy really fast, and part was that I wasn't really sure where the story should go now. I know where it needs to end up, but I wasn't quite sure how I wanted it to end up there. I'm still not sure if I made the right choice, but this chapter definitely brings a LOT of character progression for Hermione and Severus both. It's a pretty heavy chapter, although I didn't plan it that way._**

**_I hope you guys find this chapter to have been worth the wait. I've built up a few chapters during the gap, so I'll be able to update every couple days for a little while without it being too much of a problem._**

**_Again, review please. Y'all always make me smile like a dork, and it makes my day so much brighter when I hear your opinions. _**

I didn't move when I woke up the next morning. Severus was still lying next to me; I could feel his breath as it brushed across my cheek, and his skin was smooth under my hands. I felt like I was floating. This euphoria had completely taken over me during the night, and I couldn't help but smile into his chest. His arms tightened around me an infinite amount as I ran my finger down his sternum—he was awake. I resisted the urge to bite my lip. Why was I suddenly so nervous? I had made love to this man, and it was _now_, the morning after, that I was going to become embarrassed? Sometimes I just didn't make sense to myself.

To distract myself from my quickening heartbeat, I traced his hip with my finger lightly. He leaned into me, and I felt him kiss the top of my head. "Good morning," he whispered. I didn't respond; I was enjoying the quiet of the morning. Instead, I placed a soft kiss to his chest. His heart picked up its pace under my lips; I couldn't resist a smile. I kissed his chest again. And again. And again. Honestly, I didn't really want to _stop_ kissing him. His laugh came out a bit breathy. "Dear God, woman." I smiled again and tightened my grip on his hip. He let out another shaking breath. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

I pulled away from his chest to look into his eyes, my eyebrows pulling together. Was he…doubting me? Did he think I wasn't that…good? God, the humiliation would be...

He kissed me, gently, right before I said anything. I pulled away, though, worried about his comment. "What do you mean?" I whispered, trying to keep any kind of hurt or accusation out of my voice.

He reached down and covered my hand on his hip with his own. He kissed me again. "Stretch out your legs," he muttered against my lips. His eyes were gentle, just as his voice was, but it was absolutely a command. I kissed him before obeying him. And then I stretched out my legs, straightening them, and I couldn't keep the grimace off my face. I couldn't remember a time when my entire body ached as it did now—not even bouncing between forests with Harry and Ron every night compared. I bit my lip. _This_ was what he meant. He raised one eyebrow.

"Oh," I whispered. He squeezed my hand, wrapping it in his. He moved them until they both lay on the bed between us; he traced the wedding band on my finger.

"Take a warm shower or bath, and that should help. Of course, laying here for a while will, too, but I won't be able to join you." I raised my eyebrows in question. He sighed. "It's the first day of September, Hermione," he muttered, and I heard a little bitterness creeping into his voice. "I have to make the rounds and double check that everything is set for the beginning of term tonight." Oh. Right. Students would be here tonight. I had forgotten—the events that now consumed my mind were so much more important to me. He smirked. "Besides, if I stay here much longer, we'll end up where we did last night, and I'm not sure I would regret it later on today when you're hurting even more."

There it was. I smiled. I had actually been worried that the smart ass-ery had taken a permanent hiatus; it made me smile to know it wasn't gone. "Alright. Get up, crazy man." He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

He chuckled low and deep. It rumbled in my chest; I snuggled deeper into the sound. "Oh, the importance of a pronoun." A pronoun? What the hell did a pronoun have to do with anything? I raised one eyebrow in return, and he shook his head. "I'll explain later," he murmured silkily into my ear. For some reason, his promise made a shiver run down my spine, and I blushed a little as desire stirred in my core. Then he kissed just below my ear and got out of bed.

He grabbed his wand off the bedside table on his side and flicked it; I heard water begin to flow in the shower in the bathroom. I pretended I wasn't looking at him as he walked into the bathroom—he left the door open—and stepped into the shower. But who was I kidding? My eyes raked over his naked body, taking in every curve and line and plane of him in this new, morning light. I smiled in pleasure.

After a few minutes of watching his outlined figure move behind the frosted glass that enclosed the shower, sleep began to overtake me again. I pulled the covers over me and snuggled into his pillow until his scent surrounded me. I remembered belatedly that I hadn't taken the serum I normally did to keep my sleep peaceful. This sleep, thankfully, ended up dreamless without help.

**TIME**

Severus had been right about the hot bath—my muscles were no longer screaming at me. I stepped out of the tub, drying myself off quickly before walking into the closet. I picked out a blue summer dress and a long sleeved off-white cardigan that had a lace back. I dressed quickly in the closet, wrapping my hair in a towel so that the dress wouldn't get wet, and then returned to the bedroom in search of my wand. I searched the bed first, since I wasn't entirely sure where I ended up putting down my wand. I didn't find it; instead I found a dark stain of blood—from me?—and another liquid that dried to be just off white. What in the…? Oh. It hadn't occurred to me that that would need to…come back out again. I shook my head and continued my search for my wand. I eventually found it on my desk in the study, exactly where I had put it when I began my lesson outlines.

Lesson outlines. I shivered a little bit out of nervous habit. There were so many _other_ things I wanted to think about—like Severus and his hip lines. I smiled. Then I unwrapped the towel from around my hair, and with a flick of my wrist dried it. I pulled it quickly back into a ponytail.

I turned for the staircase but paused a moment. Should I write him a note? I bit my lip in consideration. I knew he wouldn't really want to join me on my excursion, and he _was_ really busy today. I certainly didn't want to interrupt whatever preparations he was working on, and I didn't have time to search the castle for him anyway… So a note seemed like the best means of communication available to me. I pulled out a quill and ink and scribbled a quick note on a piece of parchment lying on his desk.

_Severus,_

_I'm going to take up Ginny's offer of lunch at Grimmauld Place this afternoon. I know that you're busy today, and I didn't want to interrupt you. I know that you weren't really wanting to go. Know that I will miss you today. _

_Love_

I paused, looking over the note. I scribbled one last line.

_Oh, and I'm feeling _much_ better now._

I smirked. He would understand; he knew so much more than me about all of that. Of course he would pick up on the implications.

And then I turned around, walked up the stairs, through his office and down the staircase to the corridor. The castle was still surprisingly empty. I passed a few ghosts, though they didn't often travel near Severus's office. Perhaps they were preparing for the new term themselves. I mean, the ghosts _did _wander pretty much everywhere when I was a student. Several students—especially First years—would consistently ask for directions if they got lost.

I also passed Professor McGonagall in the hallway. "Good morning," she greeted me as I walked towards her.

I smiled a little. "Good morning."

She stopped a few steps away from me. "You're going to lunch at Grimmauld?" She asked.

I nodded. "Yes. Are you as well?"

"I will be going in about forty minutes."

I smiled again, more so out of courtesy than true happiness, "Then I will see you there." And I continued past her, and down to the Entrance Hall. I was more than halfway across, nearly to the doors and the lovely autumn sun, when my name was called from behind me.

"Hermione." It was Severus. His voice…It was soft, gentle, and rich with love. I mean, I could also hear the lingering defensive iciness, but I knew it wasn't directed towards me. I focused instead on the love practically dripping from his voice. Even now, with his mind distracted with so many stressful duties, he made sure that I was inside of his defenses with him. The knowledge made these new butterflies come to life in my stomach. Wow. To be _desired_. I couldn't help but smile—and blush—as I turned around.

"Severus," I returned, my own voice overflowing with love and hope and…and desire. He walked quickly down the marble staircase, each step precise in its location. He was bothered by something; he only walked with that much precision and silence when there was something that wasn't sitting well with him. I saw the note I had written him held carefully in his right hand.

"I distinctly remember Ginny inviting us both," he said as he took my hand in his. His thumb brushed over my palm before he lifted my hand and placed a tender kiss first on the back f it and then on my wedding band. And then he smirked. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

I laughed. "Well, you know, I finally got you to put out, so now I'm off to my next defensive, emotionally closed off man."

He raised one eyebrow, but a corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

"But in all seriousness, you were busy, and I didn't want to interrupt you. I assumed that you would go to Grimmauld Place once you were finished…if you felt so inclined."

"Ah," he said in understanding. "Well, then, I suppose we should go then." I smiled and turned towards the doors. I flicked my wand, and one of them opened soundlessly. "It would just be _such_ a tragedy if we kept Potter waiting." His voice dripped with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes but walked through the door and onto the grounds without hesitation. He followed me, his footsteps hitting with absolute precision just behind mine. What was making him so preoccupied?

We walked through the grounds in silence. I flicked my wand as we neared the gates, and they swung forward obediently. Tonight, students would be riding through those gates in carriages pulled by Thestrals. With any luck, none of the students would be able to seem them like I could.

Normally I apparated as soon as I was outside of the gates, where the spell that prevented apparition dissipated. So, naturally, I stopped a few feet in front of the gates. Severus, though, kept walking until there were several feet between us.

"You were right," he said. He didn't turn around. _Damn,_ I thought. _I didn't even have to ask him what was on his mind_.

"About what?" I asked. He didn't often tell me that I was right about something. I hadn't even said anything that would need such an evaluation.

"I don't want to go," he told me. "I go only because it is expected of me. Minerva and Remus will be there, so it is assumed that I will be in attendance." His voice was cold and bitter. I bit my lip. "But I am not wanted there." His shoulders hunched over in defeat.

I bit my lip harder. God, to even be able to see him like this was such a gift. And he didn't understand… The amount of hatred he harbored against himself had made him incapable of seeing just how much of a gift all this was—how much of a gift _he _was. I walked up to him and took his hand firmly in mine. He needed to know just how special he was. He needed to know that all those years of self-loathing hadn't destroyed him. He was still able to love and to be loved. He needed to understand.

"I want you there," I told him fiercely. "Screw whatever the hell anyone there thinks. I _need_ you there with me. You are such a gift. I can't imagine going to anything without you." I rested my head on his arm and squeezed his hand. "You're the anchor that keeps me from having panic attacks."

And that was the truth. Whenever he was with me—when I could feel his skin under me and I could surround myself with his scent, the panic attacks didn't happen, even if there was a sure-fire trigger. Not even the smell would send me over the edge anymore if he was with me.

He let out a breath and turned to me. His arms wrapped around my waist. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine; we were breathing the other's air. His eyes were closed, but I saw a tear make its way slowly down his cheek. I reached up and wiped it away. He still didn't understand.

"And, I mean, I feel so selfish knowing that you have given me such freedom, and yet I have nothing to offer you. You let me in behind your defenses, and that is such a gift. I have nothing that could ever be as wonderful a gift, but I hope you understand the depth of my gratitude." The tears were coming so fast now. He _needed_ to understand.

I wiped the tears away over and over again—they didn't stop coming. After a few moments, I let one hand drop to his left forearm and push up the sleeve gently. I traced the bright green mark with a light touch. I bit the inside of my lip; I had to find the exact words for what I needed him to hear.

"You've become convinced that you're shattered, broken, unable to love or be loved. You carry with you a permanent reminder of every horrible act you've been witness to, and the regret has made you think that you are too far gone to be loved, to be saved." He let out a wavering breath. His grip on my waist tightened.

I took a deep breath. "But you aren't shattered. You aren't broken. You aren't too far gone." Several tears dropped onto his forearm. I brushed them away and continued to trace the mark. "I've seen you—all of you. You are able to love." He shook his head; the movement made the tears land in different places on his arm. "No, listen to me," I told him. "You are capable of love. You _do_ love. You love _me_. Of all people to love, you love _me_." Now _I _was choking back tears. "And I love you in return. All those things that you've done, that have happened, aren't what define you. Not ultimately. Not for me."

He needed to see himself for who he really was. I would spell it out for him if I needed to. Screw lunch. He was so much more important.

"I see the man who doesn't call anyone "mudblood" anymore. I see the man who discusses things important to him instead of isolating. I see the man who cradles his wife's scar instead of being repulsed by it or pitying her. I see the man who makes special sleeping serums so that his wife doesn't wake up screaming in the middle of every night. I see the man who doesn't push his wife for sex even though he's taken several women to his bed. I see the man who doesn't hold his wife's inexperience against her but instead guides and teaches her with the lightest of touches."

I reached my hand back up and cupped his cheek. I wiped away new tears. "Severus, I see a man who has somehow managed to rebuild himself after being part of such a violent, loveless community for so long that it should have been impossible." I pressed my hand more firmly against his check; he pushed into it and let out another shaking breath. He pulled me closer to him. I went willingly.

He didn't say anything, and the tears didn't stop. I moved one hand so that it cupped his neck. I pulled him tightly into me. The silence stretched out between us and around us until I was consumed with him. Eventually I spoke into the silence. There was one last thing he needed to know.

"Severus, look at me," I commanded quietly. He took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush before slowly opening his eyes. They sparkled from the tears. I had never seen him so vulnerable. "Severus, I don't regret choosing you." He started shaking his head. "Stop. Please. I don't regret it—any of it." I smiled, pulled him even closer, though I wasn't sure how that was possible. "You are worthy of being loved. I know it." I stopped him when he started to shake his head again. "I know because I love you. I love you, Severus. So much."

He looked at me with wondrous eyes; they pored over mine. And then he was kissing me with an intensity I had never experienced. I responded with everything that I had—all the love and hope and desire. Pretty soon I had to pull away because I couldn't breathe.

"I love you," he told me as soon as my lips broke contact with his. "I…" He took a breath. "I do not have the words. But I love you. More than I ever thought capable."


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: Wait...another update...? :) I always get so excited when I finish chapters, and I finished this one last night... So... Yeah. I couldn't contain the excitement anymore. I want to thank **_**mrs. tatro _and _bluefirefly_ with being very good at offering plot suggestions in their reviews that have already been worked into the timeline. (At least, to some extent. I have too much of a heart for some of it...) _**

**_And, of course, everyone who reviews always makes me smile. Like, I check like an addict for new reviews, and every time I see that there is a new one, I get super nervous and then smile like some dork, no matter where I am. I have laughed in the middle of Starbucks because I'm so happy with the reviews. :) Y'all are so awesome. I hope you enjoy having back-to-back updates!_**

I smiled against his lips and held him against me. He finally understood. We stood there for several minutes, and I couldn't help but wish that he would never let me go. He sighed after a while.

"We should go," I whispered against his lips. He sighed again and pulled away from me. I pulled down his sleeve, smoothing it until it lay flat against his skin, while he pulled out his wand. When I looked back at him, it was impossible to tell that he had been crying.

"Will we be late?" He asked me as he took my hand.

I shook my head. "I was going early to talk with Ginny. She's been having a rough time lately." I wasn't sure how long we'd been standing there, but I was sure that thirty minutes hadn't gone by. And that meant that we definitely weren't going to be late, not with magic transporting us.

"Let's go, then," he said. He kissed me quickly before turning sharply. The tightness pushed against me. But just like always, it banished the moment it became unbearable. And then a warm autumn breeze was blowing gently across my face. I couldn't help but smile wider.

I reached out to open the door.

"Wait, Hermione," Severus whispered in my ear. I pulled my hand back into my chest and turned around.

"What?"

"Just know that no matter what may happen at lunch, I believe you."

I nodded and kissed him gently for a brief moment. He stepped forward, opened the door, and ushered me quietly inside. I stepped over the threshold softly. The door closed behind me, and then Severus was guiding me down the hallway with a hand on the small of my back. A laugh echoed down the hallway from the kitchen. I smiled and grabbed Severus's hand. I looked up at him. He was looking down the hallway, his eyes cold and withdrawn.

"Hey," I whispered. He glanced down, and I saw his eyes thaw out a little bit. "It'll be alright."

He looked at me for a moment, and then looked back down the hallway. "Sorry. I'm just used to shutting down."

"I know. But I'm here, so it won't be all bad if you open up a little bit," I said. "I mean, you don't have to tell them your life story or anything, but just being kind like you are now goes a long way."

He nodded. "You're a reward that I don't deserve, Hermione," he said. "But I'll take you anyway." And then he smirked. God, this man. Even with the soreness still lingering in my muscles, comments like that made me want to ditch lunch and return home to do more…productive things.

I played with the sleeves of my cardigan to distract myself and continued walking towards the kitchen. There was another _pop_ from down the hall, so someone else had just shown up. I walked a little faster but ended up pausing in front of the door. I took a deep breath. Severus pressed himself gently against me; the heat from is body calmed me.

"If you're worried about them being able to tell that we made love," he whispered at the barest volume into my ear, "know that it's impossible to tell."

I let that sink in for a moment; I let out the breath I had been holding. The front door clicked open at the other end of the hallway. I reached out and opened the door quickly, dropping Severus's hand and stepping into the kitchen. I felt him follow me closely and then heard him shut the door.

"_Finally_!" Ginny said from the corner of the room. I looked up and found her walking towards me. I smiled at her and then took in the rest of the room. Tonks was sitting with Angelina and Alicia. She must have left Teddy at her parents' house. Fleur and Colette were having a pretty involved conversation in French. While she seemed to be contributing to whatever conversation the three of them were having, Tonks kept glancing at Remus, who was sitting in a cluster with the guys—Arthur, Harry, Ron, Bill, Fred and George. Remus glanced up as we walked in, as did Harry.

"Severus," Remus called him over, his voice grim. Harry's face was ashen, and it seemed like he hadn't slept in several days. Arthur and Bill shared the same sad look. Ron kept looking at Colette, this strange sadness in his eyes. Fred and George were just as somber; neither of them seemed to be in a joking mood. I hadn't seen them this serious since the war. What was going on?

Severus's eyebrows pulled down in worry as he stepped out from behind me and walked to the table. He let his hand on the small of my back trail around to the front of my hip, where he squeezed it lightly, before letting it drop to his side.

I looked back at the women scattered around the room. Molly was busying herself with lunch, but her hands seemed to shake, and she would look up every few minutes and focus on one of her children. I noticed that Angelina and Alicia didn't seem to be very invested in the conversation. Mostly they were just looking worriedly over at their husbands. The entire atmosphere was dampened. I wondered where the laugh had come from.

"Think you could talk for a minute?" Ginny asked as soon as she was at my side. I looked at her, and I could see the puffiness of her eyes, though she had obviously tried to cover it up.

"Of course," I told her, and then she walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She opened the door that used to lead to my room. I walked in and found myself surrounded with books and a desk. "Harry's?" I asked her. She nodded absentmindedly. She walked over to the window and looked out of it wistfully. Her knuckles were white from gripping the windowsill too tightly.

I took a breath. "It's worse?"

She nodded and gulped. I saw her hands start to shake. "So much worse." She let out a breath. "There have been more and more attacks that he's had to respond to. Some of them have come in the middle of the night. He's never home. He hardly talks to me. Sometimes he won't even look at me. He…" she shuddered. I walked up to her, placed my hand over hers on the windowsill. "He hasn't even touched me in almost a week. It's been almost three since we made love."

I squeezed her hand. He was withdrawing—no, he was _already_ withdrawn. It had to be related to the increase in workload. I mean, there hadn't been anything else to set him off, right?

"And you don't know why he's withdrawn?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "I've tried to ask him about it, but he just gives me this long, sad look and then goes upstairs or outside or leaves. And then I come in here and just stare out the window. He never comes in here."

"Will he talk to you about the attacks?"

She shook her head again. "He said the first time that it was an old Death Eater. His name was Yaxley or something." There were attacks happening involving Death Eaters? I thought over some of the letters Severus had gotten from Draco. I had never read them—they weren't my business—but every time he received one, he would seem on edge. Hmm… I focused back on Ginny. I would have time to analyze my own thoughts later. "And then, after they started becoming more common, he stopped filling me in on the details. But now they're way more frequent. Most of the time he doesn't even come home until well after midnight."

A tear escaped her eyes and started its descent down her cheek. I reached out and wiped it away. "Fuck. I'm so sick of crying," she muttered, and she wiped her hands under her eyes. "It's all I seem to do anymore."

I thought over what she had said. I felt obligated to give her some kind of answer. I mean, I had been one of Harry's best friends for more than eight years. I should be able to come up with something. What would cause him to pull away like this, especially with Ginny? My thoughts landed on the end of our Sixth year…

It had to do with the attacks. He was worried that he was going to be the ultimate target. And that was a good guess considering that they were Death Eaters. "He's worried," I told her. "This happened in the war, too. He was withdrawn from Ron and me, too. He doesn't want you to get hurt because of him being the ultimate target. It's always destroyed him when someone else has had to die for him."

She didn't say anything for a moment. "But he can't just break up with me this time. I'm his _wife_ now, not his girlfriend. I get that he wants me to be safe, but I can't deal with not having a relationship with him. It's as if I don't exist to him, Hermione."

I took a deep breath. "Then make him listen. Don't let him walk out on you. Get angry with him, if that's what it takes. Eventually he'll have to listen."

She shook her head. "I don't think he will, though."

"He will," I told her. "Eventually. But if it gets to be too much, you're always welcome at our place."

She looked over at me. "You live in Hogwart's."

I shrugged. "Magic can do extraordinary things. We can make it work if you need to escape for a little bit, alright? You don't _have_ to face any of this alone. I understand. I do."

She looked back out the window; for several minutes, she didn't say anything. Finally she let out a breath and wiped her face. "Of course you would understand," she said, though I was pretty sure it wasn't something I was supposed to hear. She spoke up. "I'll keep your offer in mind. I might need to get away for a little bit if all this gets any worse."

I nodded and squeezed her hand.

"Now we should go eat some lunch because I haven't eaten yet today," she said. "And maybe the guys will tell us what's actually going on."

I nodded and led her back down the stairs. I didn't know what else to say. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Ginny nudged me with her elbow. "And congratulations," she said cheerfully.

"For what?" I asked her.

"I can tell," she said as she walked down the hallway, smiling at me. Tell…? Oh… So much for people not being able to tell. Of course, it _was_ Ginny. She could tell if I had slept six hours instead of eight, we knew each other so well. So I didn't worry about it.

"Was it as good as I promised it would be?" She asked as she opened the door. Now I worried about it. I didn't really want the rest of the group knowing about it. My sex life wasn't their concern.

"Was what good?" Ron asked as we stepped back into the kitchen. The scene hadn't changed, except now there were a few heaping dishes in the middle of the dining table, and Professor McGonagall was talking with Tonks.

"Yes, Ginny. It was as good as you promised it would be," I told her in hopes that she would stop asking about it.

"Well, how did it _go_?" She asked, clearly exasperated with trying to get details from me.

"Ummm…" I said, trying to stall. Everyone was now focused in on our conversation. I snuck a glance at Severus; he had one eyebrow raised, and his mouth was curved into a one-sided smile. Was he curious as to what I would say? Or was he trying to figure out what we were talking about? Well…shit. That was his inquisitive face. "It went pretty well. Definitely as difficult as you said it would be. But it worked, and it was good." There. That didn't give away what we were talking about, did it?

"Oh, come _on_, Hermione!" She said, and she sat down on the table, facing me. "I am your _best friend_. Don't I get to _know_?" She let her bottom lip stick out in a pouty face.

I looked back at Severus for a moment. He was smiling for real now. I bit the inside of my lip.

"Well, of course you do, Ginny. But the rest of them don't," I told her. I walked forward and grabbed a roll out of one of the dishes and pulled it apart to keep myself distracted from everyone paying attention to us.

"Who says they will?" Ginny asked.

I looked back at her. She had this determination in her eyes I hadn't seen often, but I knew what it meant. I should just give in now before she started getting more specific. I sighed. "Fine. It hurt. A _lot_. And it was really nerve-wracking. I almost puked at one point because of the nerves. But it was…" I paused. "I don't have the words to describe it. It was just…wonderful. So much better than I ever thought it would be."

"Isn't it wonderful as soon as it stops hurting?" She asked as she took her own roll from the bowl. She tore off a piece and ate it before looking back up at me. I didn't answer immediately. Her eyebrows pulled down in concern. "What's wrong?" She looked me over; I looked back over at Severus. His own eyebrows were lifted. He was curious, I was sure, as to how I would respond. It was becoming more and more obvious what we were discussing. "Does it still hurt? That's not good if it's still hurting, Hermione."

"I'm pretty sure you have to do it more than once for it to stop hurting," Severus answered. I turned and stared at him, eyes wide. Did he really….just say that in front of all these people? He smirked at me, an uncanny glint in his eye. The bastard.

"Bastard," I told him. He laughed and smiled. I struggled to keep glaring; when I knew I wouldn't be able to anymore, I turned back to Ginny.

Her eyes widened, and she choked a little bit on a piece of roll she had eaten before Severus so wonderfully responded to her question. "You've only done it _once_?" She asked, surprised.

"And…" I couldn't help the blush creeping into my face. "We're done," I told her.

"Holy shit," Ron said. "You've actually _slept_ with him?"

I glared at Ginny for a minute before looking over at Ron, who was quite hilariously switching between looking at me and Severus, his eyes wide in shock. He caught me looking at him and focused in on me.

"That's fucking disgusting, Hermione."

"For your information," I told him confidently, "I've been _sleeping_ with him for six weeks."

Ginny laughed next to me. "Hermione, I love you so much."

"You _know_ that's not what I meant," Ron told me.

I shrugged. I didn't really want to talk about this.

"Come now, Ron. Ze ees _married_ to 'im. I am zurprized zat zey 'ave only tried eet once." Colette reprimanded her fiancé. I looked over at her, incredulous. I hardly knew the young woman—she was only seventeen, so we didn't have a lot in common. She had bonded much more with Fleur, which was expected, since there wasn't the language barrier between them.

"He's old enough to be her _father_, Colette. That's just gross." He told her from across the room.

"Zer is a zirteen year gap weeth Remus and Tonks. Ees zat weird, too?'" She asked him. Damn that girl had some backbone. I liked her more with every word that she said. I couldn't help but smile.

Molly spoke up. "Lunch is finished."

"How about we choose a different topic while we eat? Unless Ron wants to talk about his _own_ sex life that we all know he has." Tonks said as she moved across the room and sat down next to Remus. He took her hand in his, and they stared at each other for several moments. It made me uncomfortable to look at them—it seemed as if they were having some unspoken conversation. Severus came up to me, though, and that distracted me from the intimate scene. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck a few times.

I laughed. "You're still a bastard," I told him and turned towards the table, intent on sitting down and eating. Just like Ginny, I hadn't eaten yet. He stopped me, though, his arms tightening around my waist. I looked back up at him, confused.

"You're not…" he gulped. My eyebrows pulled down in concern. I reached up and cupped his cheek gently. Leave it up to Harry to prod an already sore wound that had just been dealt with.

"I don't think it's gross," I told him. He nodded, his eyes poring over me. Insecurities were always such a bitch, weren't they? "I love you, remember?"

He nodded and kissed me softly.

"Oh, God, stop. Seriously. That's just disgusting," Harry said. I looked over and glared at him. "I don't even know how you can kiss him, Hermione. I mean, he _killed_ Dumbledore."

I stood there for a moment, afraid to move away from Severus. I felt his arms tighten around me the smallest amount. I brought my hand down to his left arm again and brushed over it where I knew his mark was. I glanced at him, and I saw the amount of hurt he was hiding behind a wall of cold withdrawal. I made a hasty decision.


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: And...Time to knock your feet out from under. The plot just took one hell of a turn, and it's right into a pretty dark place. Yes, Hermione does stand up to Harry (and Ron), and... Well, I'll just let you find out. Please don't hate me at the end. Please...? **_

_**Anyway, sorry for all the problems regarding uploading the last chapter. I don't really know what happened. Fanfiction had a freak out, I think. Hopefully this one goes more smoothly!**_

_**Thank you all for reviews. :) I've gotten really proficient at refreshing like some madwoman. Not that I'm complaining or anything... ;) **_

_**I would wish that you'd enjoy this chapter, but it's pretty dark. So hopefully just find it worth your time, instead.**_

I tightened my grip on his arm, and I reached up with my other hand to stroke his cheek gently. I trailed one finger down the column of his throat with the lightest of touches. He clenched his jaw, and I felt his grip on my hips tighten almost painfully.

"Hermione," he warned me in a quiet voice. I could tell that his control was on the fringes—whatever had been spoken while I was talking with Ginny had set him on edge. My physical touch was making it difficult for him to hide the emotion. Or maybe he just wanted to see if the second time would hurt as bad as the first, like I did.

At any rate, I raised one eyebrow and wrapped my hand around his neck. I leaned in and kissed him softly, innocently. He pulled his hips into me, his control breaking like a twig under a person's foot. I opened myself up to him, letting him remember that I was his, and that I loved him. I pushed up his sleeve, forgetting those around us, and ran my hand over his mark gently. He surprised me in pushing up my own sleeve. He wrapped his hand around my arm and guided it slowly until my hand rested on the front of his hip; my thumb brushed his hardness. I gasped into his mouth as he traced out the first letter of my scar.

"Oh for the love of _God_, get a fucking room. No one wants to see this shit," Harry said bitterly.

I pulled away from Severus, taking in hard breaths. I didn't move my hand from his hip; he didn't stop tracing my scar. I looked at Harry for a moment before looking back at Severus. His eyes burned into mine—I recognized the desire lighting them. And then I looked down at my scar that he was tracing lightly, so lightly. I bit my lip; let my thumb stretch a little further out. I leaned down and kissed his scar gently. I pulled away after a moment and looked at Harry.

"Interesting words from a man who won't even _touch_ his wife anymore," I said offhandedly. Then I took Severus's hand and led him to a seat on the other end of the table. He straightened out my sleeve before sitting down with absolute precision, pressing his pants flat as he settled himself into his seat. I leaned over and pulled his sleeve back over his mark.

"That's none of your business," Harry told me coldly, even as Ginny sat next to me instead of him. She looked over at me, and I saw her trying to hold back tears. It really was as if she didn't exist to him. What an asshole.

I raised one eyebrow at Harry. "Then what I do with my husband is none of yours."

He turned away, no emotion in his face. There was a stony silence for several minutes as the food was passed along the two rows. The bowl of salad reached Fred, who passed it along without taking any. He handed it to Ginny, who initially began to refuse until I gave her a look of concern. She took some, though I was pretty sure she wouldn't be eating much of anything, despite her lack of breakfast. I took some and then passed it to Severus, who didn't take any. He passed it to Professor McGonagall, who sat across from him.

I looked up at him and found him looking down at me. I pulled my eyebrows together in concern. He shook his head, though, and looked down at his lap. I chewed on the inside of my lip from nerves. He was thinking about _her_, I could tell. She didn't come into his thoughts that often—only when someone mentioned her or something related. He would get this sad look and he would pull at his sleeves obsessively, and then he would look at me, and I could tell that he had finally let her go—that he really did love me...Now he just needed to forgive himself for losing her.

He looked back up at me and held my eyes. "Being distant from her won't make it any easier if you lose her," Severus said quietly, with utmost precision. I placed my hand on his lower thigh. "I've walked that path, and I lived with the regret for nearly twenty years." My grip tightened on his leg, an automatic response to the emotion running through me. When I had asked him to be open, I didn't know he was going to bare himself like this.

"No one asked _you_," Harry snapped, looking at the food he was putting onto his plate.

A cold silence fell over the room. I felt Severus withdraw back into his defenses. It sent me over the edge.

"Then why don't we all just man the fuck up and be honest here?" I asked Harry, absolute venom in my voice; I didn't recognize it as it flew across the room. He looked up at me, startled by my sudden aggressive behavior. "You're obviously scared of whatever the fuck is going on with these attacks. Which we don't know anything about, which is infuriating in its own right." I paused, but no one spoke up. Most of the room was looking at me with wide eyes. Ron was looking at the floor, his cheeks kind of pink. Harry looked at me with no emotion. Ginny was looking at her hands, her hair covering her face. Severus was looking at me with soft eyes, though they weren't unguarded.

"But, seriously, acting like _this_ with all of us isn't going to make it any better. If you're worried, then man the fuck up and tell us what's going on. We're going to find out one way or another, and it would definitely be easier if we learned it all from you. Stop shoving us away as if we're the fucking plague or something."

"We're not shoving you away," Harry said, deadpan. He returned to his food, clearly done with the conversation. I wasn't. Not even close. The asshole was going to understand come Hell or high water.

"You've _abandoned_ your wife, leaving her to me to pick up the pieces while you run around worried about who knows the fuck what because you won't tell any of _us_. I'm pretty sure that's shoving us away." I told him. He looked back up at me, shock plain on his features. "And then you attack me for _not _pushing away my own spouse. Who are _you_ to tell me who I should or should not love?" I tried to keep my voice at a reasonable volume, but the emotion boiling within me was making it difficult. Who were they to do this?

"While you have been busy the last six weeks building your defenses until they have become completely impenetrable, he's been tearing his down—something you would notice if you would get over your goddamned self. Your wife has been coming to me week after week, progressively sadder and quieter and thinner. She tells me that you won't touch her, won't acknowledge her, won't even _look_ at her. And yet Severus is doing the exact opposite of all of that."

"Hermione," Ginny pleaded with me, almost silent.

I ignored her. He was going to fucking listen. "I understand that there are attacks happening. I understand that there are new lines being drawn, and people are jumping sides. I'm not stupid. But goddamn it, leaving your friends behind in some holy search of yourself, or what the fuck ever you're doing, isn't the best idea. You tried this in the War, too, remember? You tried to be the fucking hero and run off by yourself. It didn't even occur to you that you might need someone to help you."

Severus covered my hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. "So how about you just shut the fuck up until you figure out how to actually _love_ someone, alright?"

Harry threw his fork onto the table and stared at me with wild, hate-filled eyes. "SHUT THE FUCK _UP_, HERMIONE!" He screamed at me. "YOU DON'T THINK I LOVE HER? YOU DON'T THINK I WOULD DIE FOR HER? YOU DON'T THINK I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT EVERY POSSIBILTY THAT MIGHT HAPPEN BECAUSE I WAS SO FUCKING SELFISH THAT I COULDN'T WAIT TO MARRY HER?"

I stared at him with cool eyes. "You say you love her," I said evenly without breaking eye contact with him. "And yet you haven't acknowledged her presence in this house for more than a week. She sits at the other end of the table, and you don't even notice. She's losing weight at an alarming rate, and you can't even muster up a fucking hello."

He stared at me but didn't say anything. He chanced a glance over at Ginny, who was staring at her nearly empty plate. I was sitting so close to her that I could see the tears at the edges of her eyes. He looked back at me, no change in his expression.

"It'll cloud my judgment," he said. I threw down my fork and released Severus's leg. I stood up in one swift motion, slamming the table into him as violently as I could without magic.

"It's supposed to fucking cloud your judgment, fucking asshole!" I hurled the words at him with complete venom. He would not act like this, not with my best friend's well-being on the line. Fuck him for doing this to her—and then judging me. "Love makes you think _differently_. It makes you think only of that person and encourages you to act so that only that person benefits. Other people might benefit, too, but that's not what you're concerned about in the moment. You're concerned about that person who you love more than you ever thought was possible. You're concerned about making sure that they're safe, that they're able to walk out of this shit, no matter what cost to you."

I turned to Ron, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. I noticed he didn't touch Colette at all. "You all sit over there, sitting on your imaginary thrones, throwing derogatory comments at me and Severus, thinking you're so much better, when you haven't even bothered to look in the mirror! _You_," I pointed at Ron, "throw around comments that are as biting as any Severus used to say when we were students. And you have no problem doing so—it's like it has become totally normal or some stupid shit. Have you heard him say _anything_ that rude and hurtful since we got married?"

Ron didn't say anything.

"Well?" I asked him. He _would_ respond.

"No," he said quietly. "He hasn't."

"Exactly," I said. I turned back to Harry. "And _you_ throw around comments, thinking that you're in an entirely different league than him. And yet _you're_ the one who has become cruel and detached and suspicious of everyone, including of your friends." He stood up suddenly, and for a moment I was scared he was going to launch himself across the table at me, but then I realized I just didn't care if he did. About time I got emotion out of him. "If you're worried about her, then this is _not_ the way a man reacts. This is how a scared fucking little boy reacts. Men react like Remus—holding his wife even though they have a three year old son and are expecting another. Love is like Bill, who cradles his wife and speaks with her despite an increase of attacks that could potentially harm _their_ unborn baby. Love is _not_ ignoring your wife."

Fleur looked at me with surprised eyes—I hadn't really ever stuck up for her in such a public setting. I tended to side with Harry. Well, at least, I used to, when I understood who he was. I didn't understand the man who stood down the table from me, looking at me as if _I_ was the Death Eater.

I lowered my voice to a reasonable volume and spoke with absolute precision, like Severus did when he was controlling his emotions around other people. "You have _no_ concept of what real love looks like in all its forms. So shut the fuck up and sit down and _stop_ thinking you're better than him. Look at yourself first. He's not the man he was, and I'll be damned if I continue to let you throw old shit in his face that he cannot change."

I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, looking at everyone there. No one said a word. Harry sat down without a sound. Ron looked at me with sad eyes, reaching one hand out to Colette. I saw Bill hold Fleur a little tighter, and Fred took Alicia's hand tightly in his. George looked at Angelina for a long moment, and I could tell they were speaking without talking. Severus reached up and placed one hand on the small of my back. I looked down at him, and he smiled this tender smile that melted my heart. I smiled a sad, small smile back at him. He nodded in understanding. And then I sat down. Severus wrapped one arm around my hips, resting his hand on the outside of the thigh opposite him. I leaned into him a little bit.

I hated being the person to confront everything, but I couldn't let this continue on. Ginny was getting too frail, too depressed. I reached out to her, and she laid her head in my lap, hiding under the table. I felt the tears begin to soak through the skirt of my dress; some of them landed on the part of my thighs that were bare. I ran my hand through her hair over and over again. She didn't sob, though, and that gave away just how often she had cried recently.

"I'm sorry," Ron said. I looked up, surprised. I felt Severus's grip tighten on my thigh. He was looking at me with bright, sad eyes. "I never realized that I had become like that. I've been so wrapped up in all the violence that's been happening. I haven't been paying much attention to everything outside of it."

I nodded. "I can understand that," I told him honestly. I stroked Ginny's hair again, and then looked down at her. I wiped the tears from her cheeks. She looked up at me and sighed. I didn't say anything to her; I just kept wiping the tears from her face. She turned back so that she was looking under the table. I felt a tear drop onto my thigh.

Severus leaned over and kissed where my shoulder met my neck. I bit the inside of my lip; God, he knew my turn on points, didn't he? _I shouldn't let him continue_, I thought. _Not here. Not with all these people potentially watching._ He bit down with the lightest of pressure, and I struggled to contain a moan. I leaned my head away from him, exposing more of my neck. He kissed me again.

And then he whispered in my ear, "Letting someone else in is more difficult than I think they realize." I looked up at him, my eyebrows drawn in. His eyes were still so sad. I bit my lip. I hated seeing him this tortured. I wouldn't make him say it to Ron.

"It's hard to remember to let people in. Just try to be more conscious about it," I told Ron. He nodded. I nodded in response, and then looked back at Severus, who had started eating again. I looked back down at my own plate, but my appetite was suddenly gone. I bit the inside of my cheek. Harry stood up, his chair pushing against the floor creating a bothersome sound. Still, it was far less dramatic than before. He seemed to be preoccupied with something. While his face was no longer emotionless, his eyes seemed to stare off into the distance. It seemed almost as if he were daydreaming.

"Ginny?" He asked. I looked down at her; she looked back up at me, eyes wide with surprise. I wiped off her face one last time, and then she sat up. She clamped her hands together behind her back and walked out the kitchen door, not looking at anyone. At the last moment, she chanced a glance back at me. I pulled one corner of my mouth up, trying to encourage her.

Harry followed her out, shutting the door behind them. I heard the stairs creak under their weight, but I didn't hear their voices. Perhaps he was waiting until they were out of earshot? Or did he cast some spell to hide the noise from us? I dropped the thought when Remus cleared his throat.

"Well, in spite of all of _that_, we need to commence with why we are all on edge. We had been planning on informing all of you about the details concerning the attacks. We were waiting for Severus to confirm some of what was still unknown," he said, taking a bite of food as he finished. Tonks looked at him with sad eyes. Had Remus already told her what was going on? Remus waved a hand to Severus.

I looked up at him. He took a deep breath, squeezed my thigh, and then released me as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "The attacks are becoming more directed, narrower in their scope. We've seen that in the last few weeks. Less people are being targeted, and it's become clear that those who fought against the Dark Lord, and ultimately brought about his death, are the targets."

He looked down at me for a moment, and his eyes suddenly became filled with passion—but not desire, like I had seen only a short time before. They blazed with an anger that made me scared for whomever it was that fell underneath his wand. "But at the same time, they're becoming more violent." He paused, letting that soak in. I could feel him on edge; there was something weighing on his mind. He looked at the table for a moment, and I saw him lace his fingers together. His knuckles turned white. He looked back up across the table and sighed. "Cho Chang was murdered last night," he said heavily.


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: This chapter is definitely self explanatory. I'll just let you get...uh...reading. **_

_**Reviews, awesome, blah blah blah. Time for some action! ;)**_

I held Severus's hand tightly in mine as we walked up towards the castle. We had spent the last half hour walking around Hogsmeade, lost in our separate thoughts. We hadn't said much to each other; I just held onto him tightly, and he did the same with me. I looked up at the castle as we approached the gates. The sun was just beginning to set, and most of the windows were filled with warm light. The scene, though beautiful, was of no comfort to me. I tried to hold back a shiver as I thought over the afternoon's discussion _again_. This was the last time. I had promised myself. I wasn't going to run through everything that had happened at lunch again tonight after this. There were students coming—soon. I needed to be focused on them and their learning. I could deal with the rest behind the closed doors of my bedroom.

I let the scene engulf me again as Severus tapped the gates to the grounds with his wand.

_Remus had just finished informing us—the women who weren't told anything prior to lunch—that Avery and Jugson were now dead, thanks to Harry and Tonks, and that it had been confirmed that Bellatrix Lestrange was the one calling the shots. We were over an hour into the conversation, and I was starting to get tired. I just wanted to escape back into our own little safe haven and pretend that none of this was happening._

"_Lucius has approached me," Severus said, staring down at the table. He rested his chin on his clenched hands. I hated seeing him like this, completely closed off so that he could remain in control of the meeting. There was vital information to be told, I knew, but I hated having him so removed from me, even out of necessity._

_I started to reach out to him. I wanted him with me, not somewhere alone in his head. I stopped, though, and pulled my hand back. His withdrawal wasn't because he was doubting me or anything like that. He needed to be focused right now, and that meant pulling himself behind his walls. I definitely didn't want to be a distraction. I saw Ron lift his eyebrows in surprise. Had they not discussed this? I mean, this was the one part I knew about the whole mess. _

"_What did he ask?" Ginny asked as she came through the doorway to the kitchen. I looked up, and I noticed that she had changed her outfit and that her hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail. Harry had his hand on the small of her back, and he didn't let so much as two inches of space between them. I stared at them, unable to listen to Severus explain that Lucius was seeking information about Draco. He had apparently cut off all contact with him and Narcissa a month prior, when Bellatrix approached the Malfoys—both sets—of her wanting to fulfill Voldermort's plan despite his death._

_Ginny looked down at the ground for a moment, and I saw her try to compose her facial expression. After a moment she looked back up, her eyes sad. She looked at Harry, who looked back at her, concern in his now warm eyes. After a moment they sat down quietly, and they both looked back at Severus after getting settled. Except that Ginny's eyes slipped over Severus—and landed on me. _

Shit, _I thought_, caught staring_. But instead of making a scene or anything, she just smiled the tiniest amount. What was with the mood change? I lifted one eyebrow in question. She glanced back at Harry for the briefest of moments, then returned her gaze to me and winked. It took me a moment to put it together. But then I was laughing. Like, downright laughing, the kind that makes you get a stitch in your side and makes your ribs hurt. Right in the middle of Severus explaining that Lucius—and the remaining Death Eaters—still trusted him, and that he was now, once again, offering himself up to play the role of double agent._

_Severus looked back at me, a look upon his face that showed he was questioning my sanity. I pushed my chair away from the table and bent over, covering my face with my hands. I shook my head back and forth in disbelief. No way. She did _not_ just do _that_ with everyone down here. How had she even _convinced_ him to do it? I let a few more convulsions expand my chest before forcing myself to calm down._

"_Sorry," I muttered, pulling my hands away from my face and smoothing down my dress to distract myself. Everyone was looking at me with the same look of bewilderment. I bit my lip and shook my head, not daring to look at Ginny. I knew I would laugh again—out of joy or out of amazement, I wasn't sure—if I caught her eyes again. So instead I looked at my lap and played with the hem of my dress, a smile still playing at the edges of my lips. _

"_Why has Draco cut off communication with his parents?" Arthur asked, picking up the conversation as if I hadn't just interrupted. He had been pretty quiet the entire afternoon. "It doesn't match with choices he's made previously. Why now? Why them? It doesn't make sense."_

_Severus sighed, and I saw him drop one of his arms off the table. He placed his hand on my lower thigh. I reached out and intertwined mine with it, holding it tightly. "Marriage can change a person," Severus said in a subdued voice. I didn't look up to see what emotion his eyes held—his voice held enough on its own. I squeezed my hand tighter._

_He sat there for a moment, and I couldn't help but look up at him. He was looking at me, his eyes burning with desire and love and so much more that I didn't have the words for. I sucked in a sharp breath. I reached out with my other hand and stroked his cheek. I pushed his hair back behind his ear, smiling a little when he kissed my wrist. Someone cleared their throat. I dropped my hand and looked back at my lap, but not before I chanced a glance at Ginny. She smiled and giggled a little herself. I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. I was going to get the story from her. Someday, when we had the chance to breathe again._

"_While Susan is not muggleborn, she is not of a pure enough blood for the standards held by Death Eaters. It is why she was affected by the Marriage Law. Draco knows this." Severus continued his explanation. His first statement had, apparently, not been enough._

"_That still does not explain why he has cut off ties with his parents, though, Severus," Arthur said from across the table. "Even if they have told Bellatrix that they will help, it doesn't explain why he would choose to distance himself from them."_

"_Even if Bellatrix overlooked the fact that Susan's blood isn't of 'good' quality, Draco would still have to show that he was dominant in the relationship—that Susan understood that she was worthless. He would have to prove that he was only married to her because of the requirement under the Ministry of Magic. He would have to show that he in no way held any emotion for her other than disgust."_

"_What does that mean?" Fleur asked._

_Severus took a deep breath. "He would have to be physically violent with Susan whenever in the presence of one of them. He would have to be abusive verbally, calling her 'mudblood' and 'filth' and similar names. She would have to take the place of something lower than a house elf when in company with them, and he would have to be the one that put her there," he explained without feeling. He sighed again. "He would have to publically go to another woman for physical satisfaction. There could be no doubt in their minds that he was repelled by her physically and refused to take her in that way."_

"_Why would that be a problem for him?" George asked honestly. "He's always been filled with enough hatred to do that to other muggleborns and those of 'lesser' blood status."_

"_Because he loves her," he told them quietly. I struggled to breathe normally; the emotion in his voice clawed at the pit of my stomach. I squeezed his hand again._

"_Then why doesn't he fake it?" Ron asked. "He's always believed in their ideology. I mean, he's put himself in a pretty dangerous position now, and he's never been that brave."_

"_Draco won't inflict that kind of pain on Susan knowing that he can keep it from happening. Whatever he used to believe, it's changed. Susan's changed him. He won't do anything that'll hurt her if he can help it."_

"_But," Ron started again. I cut him off. _

"_Even if he did do that, Ron, the cover wouldn't last for long," I told them. Susan had sent me a letter the day before, written under a pen name—just in case. I looked up at those sitting around the table. "Susan's pregnant."_

Severus's voice pulled me out of the memory. We were almost to our quarters. "We have some time before the Professors' meeting," he said nonchalantly as we rounded the corner. The gargoyle stood guard at the other end of the hallway. Time? That meant…

"How much time?" I asked him, keeping the desire swirling in my stomach from entering my voice. I would keep with his casual feel—even if part of me wanted to puke from nerves…and the other, larger, part of me wanted to press him against the wall while I slowly kissed his body, explored all the curves of his stomach, tasted him under my tongue.

I took a deep breath, tried to calm my heartbeat. I wasn't sure we had enough time for that, and to get myself worked up…

"Dumbledore," he murmured to the gargoyle. It obediently leapt to the side, and he ushered me onto the staircase. "About an hour and a half," he told me. That was plenty of time to explore him…to let him explore me, if he wanted. I played with the edges of my sleeves to distract myself from the desire. We at least had to make it into his office.

"An hour and a half?" I clarified noncommittally. I opened the door and stepped quickly inside the moment I could, turning around so that I could watch him. He followed me in and shut the door, keeping his face down—I couldn't see his expression.

"About that, yes," he murmured. He stood turned partially towards me, his hand still resting on the doorknob, his eyes on the ground. His knuckles were white, his grip was so tight.

"Hmmm…" I murmured as I walked up to him. I reached out and took his face in my hands, trailing one finger down his jawline slowly. His jaw tightened, but he still wouldn't look at me. I leaned in and pressed chaste kisses up the line my finger had just drawn. He took in a breath. "That's a lot of time," I whispered in his ear.

He placed his free hand on my hip and squeezed it tightly. "I don't want to hurt you," he said on a shaky breath. I smiled for the care he took, but then I nipped him under his earlobe. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to hurt—and I honestly didn't care if it did. I wanted him so near me; I wanted him to see just how much I loved him. So much had changed between us today. I knew this would really feel like the first time, and I wanted it. I wanted to emotionally bind myself as thoroughly as possible to him. He let out a breath; it rushed past my ear.

I looked at him, and I could feel the heat coming from my eyes. He let out another breath. I leaned in and kissed him gently, my hand moving down his neck until it reached his collar bone. I traced the bone under my hand, feeling each crevice, and then I moved my hand until it wrapped around his neck.

Severus's control broke just as easily as it had at Grimmauld Place. He pulled me roughly into him, grinding his hips against my stomach. I sought entrance to his mouth, and he gave it to me without hesitation. He kissed me with the ferocity I knew he had been caging at lunch. I could feel all the anger and resentment and hatred that he was harboring against those that threatened us in the way he held my hips against him tightly, in the quickness of him hardening against me. I bit his lip lightly, and I heard him groan in the back of his throat. I buried my hand in his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer into me.

His other hand pressed into the small of my back, keeping my torso pressed almost painfully into his. I still managed to let my other hand trail down his torso like I had last night, feeling each plane of muscle under my fingertips. I stopped at the waistband of his pants. Mentally, I took a breath, and then I slipped my hand underneath his shirt. Slowly I retraced the path my hand had taken, skirting over the ridges of his abdomen with a feather light touch. I bit his lip again. He didn't immediately respond.

Had I done something wrong? I thought he liked it? I mean, he had just groaned in pleasure a moment ago. I started to pull away to better gauge his reaction. But then Severus was pushing against me, turning me around until I was pressed up against the door we had just come through. His hands were pressed flat against the door on either side of my head; his lips slammed into mine. It was all I could do to not rip his shirt off. As it was, I managed to pull his wand from his back pocket, and I flicked it. I smiled against his lips as his shirt disappeared.

"God, woman," he muttered. His hands moved from beside my head, down my torso. I arched into his touch, but he didn't stop to caress me. Instead he continued down until they wrapped around my waist. His grip tightened on my hips, and then he lifted me off the floor. He kissed me hungrily. His torso pushed against mine, holding me against the wall as his hands moved back up to my chest, where he caressed me. I arched hard into him, rolling my head back until it rested on the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he pressed his hips into mine, pulling the skirt of my dress away from my legs.

"I won't take you on the floor of my office," he murmured against my mouth. I ignored him, kissing him harder and rocking my hips into him, finding that I liked the friction it created. I wanted him. _Now._ He ground his hips against mine, grunting in the back of his throat. I smiled as the friction made me climb that mountain of feelings within me. I was so excited to get to the top.

He bit my shoulder. I moaned into his mouth. Severus's hands slowly moved back up until they were pushing against the door again. I tightened my legs, pulling his hips harder into mine. He moaned into my mouth; I bit his lip again, pushing off the door and wrapping my hands around his neck tightly.

"Severus, please, not in front of us."

I pulled away from him, my eyes flying open. "What?" I asked, breathless.

"The Headmasters," Severus muttered, kissing me again. He pulled his hands away from the door and wrapped them around my waist again. He pulled away from the door; I instinctively pulled myself tightly into him. He kissed my neck as he turned around, walking to the other doorway. He reached up, taking his wand out of my hand, flicking it to make the door open. I saw him drop it on the ground behind us as he walked me through the doorway and down the stairs with easy steps. I couldn't keep myself from kissing his neck, his shoulders. He stopped at the doorway to the study and leaned me back up against the wall.

He kissed my neck, my shoulders, my chest. I arched into him hard, groaning from the sensations. II let my hands play over his chest and back, and I reveled in the smoothness of his skin again. I bit my lip; he bit down on the sensitive spot where the shoulder met the neck. I moaned again and rolled my head back. I pushed my hips into him, and my skirt fell back until my thighs were completely bare.

"Hermione," he whispered. He kissed me for a moment and then pulled away. I opened my eyes and looked over him. He brought one hand off my hips. He touched my leg gently, giving me a silent command. I slowly untangled my legs from around him, placing them unsteadily on the ground. I reached out and unzipped his pants while he was still looking at me. "Wait," he murmured.

And then he was reaching out to touch me, pulling me away from the wall the smallest amount to slowly take off my cardigan, his hands sliding sensually down my arms. He dropped the cardigan ungracefully on the floor, and then proceeded with the spaghetti straps of the dress. I bit my lip. I'd been thinking earlier, at lunch after Ginny came back in. She'd obviously had to show courage to do however they did all of this while we were all downstairs. If she had enough courage to do that, I should have enough courage to do third, right? I loved him. I wanted him to feel as good as possible. I f I could make him feel how he made me feel every time he caressed me, every time he touched me like this…I would be so happy.

I reached up and put a staying hand on his fingers that were sliding so blissfully over the bare skin of my shoulder. I bit the inside of my lip. I could do this. I knew I could. I loved him. I wanted to show him in _this_ way. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes lighting with concern. "Do you hurt?" His voice was almost silent.

I shook my head. I leaned forward and kissed his neck slowly, trailing kisses down to his chest; I followed his sternum down to his stomach. My kisses began to be more open-mouthed. After the slightest of hesitations, I flicked out my tongue and traced the lines of his abs. I moaned. His taste was just intensified. More musky here than woodsy, like how he tasted if he'd been brewing for a good portion of the day.

"Hermione," he cautioned. "You don't have—"

"Shh," I told him.

And then I dropped fluidly to my knees.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: No, I'm not going to apologize for letting you all down. :P I'm sure you will survive the disappointment. Haha. Anyway, this chapter is...interesting. I'll just let you read it, I suppose. Please forgive me if there are excessive typos. I didn't have time to edit this chapter, and it's late so... Yeah. **_

_**Reviews are wonderful. I love you all. Please don't riot against me. :D**_

I reached out and ran one finger down the long line of his jaw, wiping away sweat that had accumulated there. I was struggling to find my breath, but then, so was he, so I wasn't too embarrassed or anything. He kissed my finger gently, brushing a strand of hair off my face. He let his hand trail down the side of my body lightly, stopping at my hip. His fingers spread out a little bit; I felt him brush nearly the middle of the small of my back. I pushed myself closer into him, resting my head on the pillow. I smiled and let my eyes drift closed. I was _so_ tired.

"You're alright?" He asked quietly. His lips brushed against my ear. I looked up at him. His eyebrows were pulled down in concern. I tried not to grimace at his words. I had been wrong about it not hurting. It had hurt. A lot. Almost as bad as the night before.

I shrugged the shoulder I wasn't laying on noncommittally. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, wrapping his arms gently around me and pulling me into his chest. He was quiet for a minute. To distract myself from the muscles that were screaming at me, I traced the column of his throat repeatedly. "This is immature," he told me, holding me tightly, "but I _did_ tell you so."

I bit down on his shoulder. He didn't need to rub it in my face that he knew it was going to hurt. He let out a breath in a rush, and his arms tightened around me. I smiled against his skin.

"And you say _I'm_ the bastard," he murmured against my hair.

I laughed a little bit. "You are. And I have several facts to prove it." I kissed him where I had bitten only a moment before. "But you're also wonderful and sweet and compassionate." I smiled. God, I loved this man. It had been worth the pain—the stretching and the tearing and the gagging and all of it. All of my embarrassment in the hallway and all of my aching now. It was so worth it.

He made a sound deep in his throat before kissing the top of my head. "If I was so wonderful, I would have stopped you out there."

I buried my face in his lean shoulder. I bit it lightly where it met his neck, like he did with me. I really didn't want to talk about this. It had been embarrassing enough at the time. Revisiting it would only make it worse.

I heard him swallow. "I'm…" He blew out his breath. I felt his hands clench into fists against my back. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, trying to sooth my heartbeat. I _really_ didn't want to talk about this. If we both ignored it, it would just disappear, right? He wouldn't remember any of it? "I'm sorry," he muttered, and I heard bitterness creeping into the richness of his voice. It made it sound brittle; I didn't like it when he sounded like that. It wasn't an accurate representation of everything he held within himself.

I kissed his neck gingerly. "Don't," I whispered. I snaked one arm up his torso until I wrapped it around his neck. "Please don't be."

"But I am," he told me in earnest. He unclenched his hands and traced my spine. "If I weren't so selfish, so concerned about my own needs, I would have thought….I would have _noticed_…" He grunted deep in his throat; it rumbled in his chest. "And yet even remembering how you…" He shook his head slowly. "Part of me does not feel ashamed for how I…" His hands clenched into fists again as they reached the small of my back.

I managed to push myself up on the bed so that I could kiss away his hatred for himself. I hadn't done everything exactly right—and my body had decided on a few adverse, uh, _reactions_ to it—but that was part of the process, right? I mean, no one went into these types of things knowing how to do…everything. Or was I just trying to placate myself?

I pulled away from him. I ignored the muscles of my legs and core that screamed in protest to my sudden movement. I sat up, holding his left hand in mine. I traced his wedding band with the lightest of touches. He pushed himself onto his elbows slowly, not looking at me. I attempted to wait him out. I figured at some point he would have to look up at me and see how much his hatred bothered me. But he didn't. I sighed and reached out, placing my hand under his chin so that he would have to look at me.

"I am not sure if I should apologize," I told him honestly. God, this was _not_ a conversation I wanted to be having. Especially not now, not minutes away from having to face all the other teachers and students and everything. Not after working through all of his insecurities today. I didn't really want to broach mine right now. But here we were…

His eyes tightened. "You don't need to," he told me softly. "I'm the one who should be on my knees begging for forgiveness. Even after you… I didn't even stop. I just carried you in here and took you way harder than I ever should have." He looked away for a moment and took a deep breath. "_I'm_ the one that is sorry."

"But I'm sorry, too, that I…" I let out a breath to control my nerves. Part of me wanted to puke. "I should have asked Ginny how to do…_it_. That would have at least…" I trailed off as his eyes lit with indignation.

"You shouldn't have_ needed_ to know…If I had just been paying attention to _you_… I should have been able to teach you, not slam you against a wall and make you…" He fisted his hands again, and his breathing quickened. I leaned forward and kissed him slowly. I didn't push against him like I did when we had made love. I wanted to just kiss him, let him know that I didn't hate him. He didn't immediately respond, and when he did, it was with significant hesitation.

I pulled away, sighing. "There's a learning curve to all of this. For both of us. There's stuff that we're both going to be more conscientious about in the future," I told him quietly, not letting him look away. I sighed. "And much to my dismay, it seems that this is not something that I excel at with little practice." I wrapped his hand in mine. "For example, I'll need to learn to remember that when you're on edge, you're less likely to take things slowly."

His eyes tightened again. "I'm—"

I cut him off. "Enough. Lessons learned." He nodded slowly, and I felt him begin to withdraw. I didn't want him to, not now, not with everything that had happened in the last hour. I was so bare right now, literally and metaphorically. I felt cold from his absence. I reached out to him, cupped his cheek in my hand. "I don't regret you," I told him, pushing as much love and heat and compassion as I could into my voice. He needed to understand, just like he needed to this afternoon in Hogsmeade. "Physical things don't always work right…but no matter the outcome, I will never regret any of it with you. I mean, the tearing and the gagging…" His eyes tightened in dismay. I hurried my words. "Those things happen. If it hadn't happened today, it would have happened at some point. How about let's be thankful that it wasn't right before needing to teach or talk to someone or anything like that?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I watched in pleasure as his chest rose and fell with the air coming into his lungs. I reached out and traced the scars on his chest. He let one hand run up my arm and down my side, where he eventually placed it on my hip. "I will not push any of _this_ until I know that you are better," he told me quietly. I looked up at him. I was left speechless—his eyes burned with passion and a crazy amount of love. "Do _not_ push me until you are certain it will not hurt again, even if it means weeks, alright? We saw today that I do not need much pushing to…"

I leaned in and kissed him lightly. "Alright, Severus." He nodded, deftly breaking the kiss. He looked me over a moment, and I saw a light in his eyes I hadn't seen before. "What…?" I asked him timidly. I resisted the urge to cover myself as his eyes skated over my chest.

He looked back up at me, and I had a hard time keeping my breathing normal. "I am just amazed that of all men, _I'm_ the one that gets you. The brightest witch of her age. And _I'm_ the one that gets to know you like this," he said quietly. "I get to know that you love grilled cheese and peppermint tea. I'm the one that gets to know you like baths and dresses and pulling your hair back off of your face. I'm the one that gets to know just how much of a wild side you have." He raised his eyebrows seductively for a moment. I bit my lip and took in a deep breath. He laughed a little bit.

He sat up in one quick motion, placing a kiss on my surprised lips before getting out of bed. "We only have a few minutes," he told me after looking out the window. "But if you need more time to clean up, that's all right. I'm Headmaster. There's some flexibility in when I show up for meetings that I myself have arranged."

I nodded. He nodded, too, and then walked into the bathroom, leaving the door conspicuously open like this morning. My eyes raked down his body. God, this man. He glanced back after he turned on the water to the shower.

"There's some ointment on the top of your dresser. I made it this morning while you slept. It should help with the muscle pain."

I nodded and smiled. "Thank you," I told him earnestly. He seemed taken aback by my enthusiasm, but he managed to nod before stepping into the shower. I watched his outline for a few minutes before mustering up the courage to get out of the bed myself. I grimaced in pain with each step, and I wrapped my arms gingerly around my torso as if that would help the pain. I couldn't even walk without limping.

I deftly grabbed the bottle of ointment Severus had pointed out and limped slowly back to the bed. It hurt to sit down, but my muscles relaxed the moment I was on the bed again. I open the vial and rubbed the white ointment into my skin until it turned clear. I sucked in a breath as I rubbed it into my inner thighs, holding back a sob from the pain. I rubbed it in slowly, not willing to use more pressure, even though it would expedite the process. I moved further up my thighs, closer to my core, and let out a sob, dropping the remaining ointment on the floor.

I was bleeding. He had… He had… Oh God.

**TIME**

I held the crook of his elbow as we walked slowly down the hallway. He looked down at me, his eyes darkened with concern and his eyebrows drawn together. He let me set the pace. He had been right—the ointment had helped a lot. My legs were now functioning as they should, but I hadn't managed to fix the bleeding while he was in the shower cleaning himself. So it hurt to have anything…

In short, it was painful to walk. And we had to go down nearly ten flights of stairs to the Great Hall where the rest of the professors were waiting for us. We were nearly fifteen minutes late. I didn't worry about hiding the limp; it was obvious already why we were late. Severus was silent beside me, but every time my stride faltered from the pain, his jaw would clench, and his hands would clench into fists.

"Sorry," I muttered as I grimaced while going down the final flight of stairs that led to the Entrance Hall. He let out a deep breath and clenched his hands again. He snaked his arm around my waist. Finally, after what seemed like forever, we made it to the bottom. He squeezed my hip the smallest amount as I faltered in another step. I hissed in pain. He stopped at the doors to the Great Hall, looking at me with sad, concerned eyes. "I'm alright," I told him quietly.

He nodded and opened them with a flick of his wand. He let me walk in front of him, his hands placed gently on my waist. I did my best to walk with a normal stride, though I wasn't completely successful. At least I didn't limp as we crossed to the Professors' Table. How embarrassing that would be.

I took in the people who sat there, all looking at us with various expressions. Hagrid smiled and waved. I managed to wave back. Remus was looking at me intently, his eyes scrutinizing me in a way that made me want to blush. I managed a small smile when he was looking, but then quickly dropped it when he looked to Professor McGonagall.

"Finally," Professor McGonagall muttered as we stepped onto the raised platform and walked around the table to our seats. Severus pulled out my chair and helped me into the seat before pushing it in magically and sitting in his own. "When you set the time of the meeting, the rest of us expect you to actually be on _time_." She reprimanded Severus harshly.

He gave her a dark look, and I worried for a minute that they would start fighting. I spoke up quickly. "It was my fault," I told her. "I ended up falling asleep, and he had a difficult time waking me up. I don't sleep well at night, so it's become common for me to sleep a few hours during the day." That wasn't totally a lie. I mean, I really didn't sleep well at night, and most days I _would _sleep a little before dinner after Slughorn released me. It just didn't happen to be true of today's situation.

"Well, because of your tardiness, we've already covered everything. I imagine you already knew all of it, though, yes?" She asked Severus. Her voice was not forgiving but instead icy and harsh. Severus nodded curtly, She looked across the table to where Hagrid was sitting, looking out of the doors of the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall. "Hagrid, it is nearly time for the students to be arriving. It is time that we both take our positions." He nodded and stood up. He smiled at me again and then walked across the Hall into the Entrance Hall and then onto the grounds. The grand door shut behind him with a sound of finality. I struggled to breathe normally.

No one said anything as we waited for everyone to arrive. I was having a difficult time not falling asleep. All I wanted to do was put my head in Severus's lap and sleep away all the stiffness and embarrassment and pain from the last hour and a half. Finally, when it was clear to me that if I didn't do _something_ that I was going to fall asleep, I looked over at Remus.

"Excited?" I asked him lightly.

"Of course. I love teaching," he responded easily. "What about you?"

"Nervous as hell," I told him honestly. He smiled the smallest amount.

"Understandable. I definitely understand."

I pulled on the sleeves of the robes I had purchased only a week ago with Severus. They were long and black and much more form fitting than I probably would have picked if I had gone by myself. But they were made of a durable fabric that still managed to be light and soft. So they worked really well. I'd already brewed a few potions in them—they didn't get in the way at all. Severus took my hand tightly in his, forcing me to stop my nervous habit. I looked up at him, and I found him looking down at me with concerned eyes.

"It'll be fine," he murmured to me. I let out a slow breath and nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance. He squeezed it back. I noticed a small smile playing on his lips. He took a deep breath of his own as the Entrance Hall doors opened, letting in the first of the older students. "And here goes another year," he muttered under his breath. I squeezed his hand tighter.

"It'll be all right," I told him quietly. Because, despite all the shit happening between us and with the attacks, I knew that we would be okay. I had him. And that was enough.


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: Alright. I understand that the last chapter was pretty controversial. Let me just explain a few things: **_

_**1) Though it didn't seem like it, that chapter did have a place in the story. I understand that the cryptic writing was confusing at times since it did not provide the detail I usually meticulously add over hours of editing. Please understand that this story is written from the first person perspective. This means that the viewpoint is going to be very limited, and while I, as the author, may know the big picture, Hermione, herself, does not. Because of this, sometimes the larger picture is not clearly expressed in the narrative.**_

_** 2) I purposely skipped the hour and a half from the end of chapter eighteen to the beginning of chapter nineteen. It was an embarrassing time for Hermione because, as you will see her describe it in this chapter, everything that could go wrong seemed to do just that. Hermione didn't want to think about what happened because of her own insecurities, so not a lot of description was given in the previous chapter's narrative. I, myself, being raised on novels like Frankenstein that rely on the reader's imagination, find a certain comfortableness with being asked by the writer to fill in some of the blanks. I know that this is not as comfortable for some people to do. I apologize to all that I may have confused. **_

_**3) Hermione did consent to everything that happened between her and Severus in that time period. Due to her own flaws, she was unwilling to stop things when they pushed past the "line." I'd also like to point out that the bleeding and overall pain she felt afterwards**_**is_ possible. While Severus knew to be slow, he was pushed beyond his ability to safely handle his emotions. Add this to Hermione's fears and insecurities, she may not have been physically ready. It would not even have had to be that rough for him to tear her opening as is implied. It's common for women who are smaller and guys who are larger to have similar experiences happen. I have several friends who have experienced this._**

**_I hope this helps explain some of what was going on in the last chapter. I don't have any plans to rewrite it. I'm confident in how I wrote it because I believe it ties into this chapter. You needed to know what Hermione references later on in this chapter. She as a character has not changed. She doesn't want to think about the details of what happened, so I knew you would need to know the gist of what happened between them. As for the specifics, I will let your imagination fill in the gaps._**

**_Thank you all for the reviews. Seriously. It made me rewrite some of this chapter to help explain why I included such a chapter as the previous one. I appreciate all of your opinions _so_ much. I wish you all the best with this chapter! _**

The Beginning of Term Feast went well. Per obligation, I had to stand when Severus announced me as the apprentice studying under Slughorn. There was a surprising amount of applause, and I struggled to not blush as someone—it came from the Gryffindor table—wolf whistled. I tried even harder to not feel self-conscious when the Hall erupted in chattering when Severus explained that I would be teaching the First and Second Years. I quickly took my seat again, hiding a grimace as my legs annunciated clearly their protest. A few short comments later, and the food appeared neatly on the tables. I took a good portion more than I might have on a day less stressful.

The Professors' table was quiet during dinner, and I was scared to interrupt the silence. I had so many questions for Remus and Professor McGonagall and Severus…but the opportunity to ask the questions never presented itself. Instead, I kept looking over at Severus, hoping that I would find him soft and kind as I did when we were alone. But all I ever saw was the icy and withdrawn man that I didn't know to be my spouse. I bit my lip in nerves and ate my fair share of food, making up for the lack of breakfast and lunch that day. So much had happened that it surprised me that I didn't actually _feel_ hungry. Although I _did_ eat as if I hadn't eaten all day, so that was good, I suppose.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding when the dinner ended, the students standing almost of one accord, heading towards the various common rooms. I held sympathy for the nervous First Years I saw scrambling to keep up with some of the older students. While most of them had regained at least some color during dinner, many of them still seemed utterly terrified of the whole experience. In a few short weeks, I knew, they would feel at home, just like I had. I stood up slowly and smiled a little bit. I still found this castle to be home.

The professors slowly exited behind the students, some of them holding soft conversations between them. I didn't follow them. I waited for Severus nervously, fidgeting with my sleeves to distract myself from the amount of time he was taking. I heard a soft sigh beside me, and I looked up quickly. He had is hand outstretched towards me, and his eyes has lost the edge they had been holding. I took a deep breath and placed my hand gently in his. His hand tightened instinctively around mine. His eyes stared intently into mine, and he leaned forward slowly—so slowly—and kissed me lightly. I kissed him back, but when I traced his bottom lip with my tongue, he pulled away.

I bit my lip hard enough to pull blood. His eyebrows pulled together in concern. "I don't want to push," he murmured. I nodded slowly, though the rejection still hurt. It had taken so long to tear his walls, to get him to open up to me…I didn't want to lose that. He took a deep breath and looked me over for a moment. "How are you?"

I shrugged but managed a slight nod. "I'm better," I told him honestly. He nodded, serious. He closed the distance between us, wrapping his free arm gently around my waist. He didn't pull me any closer into him, nor did he kiss me. He simply rested his forehead against mine, breathing in slowly and deeply. After a moment he nodded again and pulled away from me, ushering me off the platform that held the Professors' table. I took my time, making sure I was ready for each step. He walked directly behind me, still holding my left hand tightly in his. His other hand was just barely pressing against the small of my back.

The walk up to his office didn't take even half the time it had taken when we had come down only a few hours earlier. And it was only a fraction of the pain. I felt like I was quickly on the mend—I highly doubted it would take several weeks for me to be able to make love to him again. At least…physically. I let out a breath as we rounded the corner and walked steadily towards the gargoyle. I might even be ready physically tomorrow, the way this ointment seemed to be working. But all of the emotional stuff…That would take a bit longer to sort through and figure out. This afternoon had been so different from the night before. It had, at one point, honestly scared me.

"Dumbledore," I told the gargoyle as we approached. He leapt aside obediently, and I stepped easily onto the staircase that began spiraling around it. Severus, I noticed with some chagrin, was absolutely silent behind me. It was a comfort to notice, though, that he wasn't walking with the precision that gave away that something was really bothering him. We walked silently through his office and down the staircase to the study. I saw him flick his wand to put out the candles as we passed by them. We walked across to the bedroom, but when I stepped through the doorway, he let me go without warning. I looked over my shoulder, my eyebrows pulling down in question.

"I received a letter from Lucius while we were away at lunch," he explained. "I'm going to get it and read it while you get ready for bed."

"Oh," I responded quietly. I bit my lip for a minute. Ah hell. Why not? I reached out and ran a finger down the line of his jaw. It clenched under my touch. "Hurry back, alright? I won't take long."

He kissed my finger chastely before giving me a slight nod. I smiled a little bit. There. Closer to how things had been. I turned around slowly and walked to my dresser, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and a random shirt that was the same color and fabric. I started to walk into the bathroom to change, but the small vial still on the floor caught my attention. I deftly grabbed it. If it had helped this much in only a few hours, then, logically, it would help exponentially while we slept. I sat on the edge of the tub and gently rubbed it in. It didn't hurt nearly as it had earlier. I let out a relieved breath and quickly pulled on the pajamas I had grabbed. I bit my lip, though, when I unrolled the shirt—it was short sleeved.

We had made so much progress with him today. He finally understood how much I loved him and how much I appreciated him and everything that wasn't easily put into words. His scars were completely bare to me—and not just the physical ones. The least I could do, facing what I knew would be several days of baring my own soul to him, was allow him to see the physical one. Just like everything else, there needed to be a starting point. This seemed to be a good one for this particular situation.

I let out a breath, not looking at myself in the mirror, and walked back into the bedroom. I smiled as I saw Severus sitting up on his side of the bed in his usual bed attire—black pants and no shirt. I crawled in quickly with minimal soreness, though I still grimaced a little. He looked up from the parchment in his hand as I settled into his side. His eyes were dark with concern.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Lucius has informed me that Bellatrix does not trust me and does not seek my council in any fashion."

I felt my eyebrows pull together in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I will not be asked to join them." He sighed. "It means that I am considered just as much of an enemy as you."

I bit my lip. Shit. That wasn't good. I mean, it was good for me. I wouldn't have to worry about him being killed for getting caught passing information. But for the well-being of the entire group, this wasn't good. It meant that we had no one on the inside that knew what the other side was planning.

"But he has also informed me that those supporting her have expressed their dissent to the decision. They still trust me. Lucius has written me to let me know that he, under pen name, will be keeping me up to date with what is going on so that I may be able to respond at a moment's notice."

Well that was…convenient. "That's helpful, I suppose." I took a breath and looked down at my hands. A thought that had been pestering me since lunch bothered me again. I looked down at my hands; I clenched them into fists and then unclenched them again. I decided to ask him. "Does this mean that you'll have to do what you said would be required of Draco?"

He didn't answer immediately, but that was answer enough. I forced my mind to stay in the present; I convinced my lungs to continue functioning normally. The abrasive words I could probably handle. As long as I got to see him like this—bare and open and loving—when we weren't around them, then I could probably handle it. Maybe. In all honesty, most of it would happen behind closed doors in scrawled letters that I would never read anyway.

But the physical stuff…

"Including the seeking out another woman for…?" I asked around a lump in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to finish the question. Despite my best intentions, there was a panic attack fluttering around the edges of my mind. I struggled against it, making it stay back. I felt my breathing quicken, and my hands became clammy.

He was silent again. I looked up at him, suddenly desperate to convince him not to do it. We could figure out some way, right? Some way to make it look like he was going somewhere else but really wasn't? I couldn't bear the idea of him… And I knew that I wasn't the best he'd ever had. We had definitely solidified that fact this afternoon when everything that could go wrong seemed to. But…I was his wife. To know that he was caressing someone else the way he did me…

I let out a low, strangled cry at the thought. His eyes lit with concern. He reached out to me, cupping my cheek gently in his hand. He hushed me. "Not necessarily," he told me carefully.

I latched onto the little hope that sentence gave me. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me for a moment before answering. I played with the hem of my shirt out of nervous habit since I wasn't wearing long sleeves. "We'll have to be careful. We can't risk someone seeing or hearing or being able to tell at all. And we have to take precautions against…" He paused a minute, his eyes darkening with an emotion I didn't recognize. "We'll need to make sure that you can't get pregnant."

I looked at him in surprise for a few minutes. It hadn't even occurred to me that we could…make a life. I swallowed convulsively. A life. We could…make a life. I looked down at my lap for a moment. I struggled to breathe normally again. My fingers were shaking. God. Why, of all things to set me over the edge, was _this_ tripping me up? I hadn't even thought about a family. Hell, I was still a teenager. I wasn't ready to be a mother. So why was it bothering me now to know that we couldn't allow it to happen? I let out a shaky breath. Oh my God. No way. I was _not_ going to have a panic attack over this. My hands started shaking worse. Why couldn't I see them clearly? Why were they blurry?

"Hermione?" He asked quietly, his voice layered with concern.

I lost control. I collapsed in on myself, my head falling against my knees. I wrapped my arms around my waist as a sob broke through my chest. If I held on tightly enough, maybe I wouldn't be sucked totally under. Another sob tore through me, and I felt my arm tingle, and I knew it was hopeless. I let the panic attack overtake me.

I sobbed into my legs, holding myself tightly as I struggled to breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't process what was going on around me. All I could manage was to keep breathing, though my lungs continually tried to stop. I tried to catch my breath, but the tears only came faster. My body shook from the sobs, and my chest burned with the ache of my ribs.

A cool hand brushed away my hair, leaving one side of my cheek exposed. It traced the bones of my jaw before wrapping around my neck. I couldn't comprehend who would be touching me. Who was even here? Who would help me? Who would save me? God. Was I even willing to have someone help me? I was the brightest witch of my age. Why the _hell_ couldn't I stop with these panic attacks? The hand brushed down my jaw again; I clenched my jaw instinctively at the touch. The hand came to rest under my chin, and it pushed up against it gently.

"Hermione, look at me." His voice snaked over me like it always did, offering a way out of my own fucked up mind. I latched onto it feebly. I regained some sense of reality. He forced my head back up so that I had to look at him. His face blurred from the tears; another sob tore through me. God. What the _fuck_ was wrong with me? "I'm here," he whispered, wiping away the tears slowly, deliberately. "It's going to be alright. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

I leaned into him until my head rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around me and held me tightly. Another sob tore through my chest, though it was quieter than ones previous. The tears wouldn't stop coming. Why couldn't I get my shit together? Why couldn't I figure this out? I clenched my hands into fists as the emotion ran through my body. Why in the hell was I so fucked up?

"Hermione," he whispered in my ear. "Hermione, I love you. I won't let anything happen to you. You know that I'll do everything needed to make sure they don't come after you."

I let out another quieter sob into his chest. It wasn't even about that, was it? It wasn't about the pregnancy comment or the fear of being unprotected like I had been in the war. But I _was_ scared. I took an unsteady breath in and forced myself out of the terror. I cried harder, though.

"You trust me, right?" He asked quietly, his arms tightening around me. I nodded. I felt a few tears drop off my chin. "Then let me protect you," he murmured. He ran one hand up and down my spine.

I struggled to find my breath. "You do. You protect me all the time," I told him unsteadily. "You protect me from myself."

His hand stopped its movement. "What?" He asked.

I held in a sob that wanted to explode out of my chest again. Fuck. What the hell was _wrong_ with me? I should be better by now. I shouldn't still be like this. Why wasn't I willing to fix it? Why wasn't I able to reach out and let someone help me?

"You protect me daily from myself, and in the moments that you don't, I make stupid, naïve decisions like this afternoon that leave me hurt physically and reeling emotionally."

He was quiet for a moment. "Explain," he commanded me softly.

"I'm scared to let someone in," I told him honestly. Something had to get me out of this. Maybe the truth would work. I forced it out in a rush. "I'm the smartest witch of my age. Maybe even the age before me. I'm supposed to know the answers. I'm supposed to know what to do. But I don't. And that scares me. It scares me so much." A sob escaped me, causing my body to shake again. I forced myself to continue. "And that pushes me to make naïve decisions, like pushing you physically when I know that you're on edge emotionally and aren't in the mindset of taking things slowly even though you want to. And like assuming that I know what I'm doing even when I don't. And then I get hurt which just makes me more scared and makes it all that much worse."

He was silent. I let out a sob into his chest. But the truth just kept on coming. "And then I sit here and think about how I should have found a fucking way out of this shit that's become my mind, but then I just get frustrated because I haven't, and I haven't _really_ let anyone in to help me because I'm supposed to know the fucking answers. And then I feel like some horrible fuck up even though I know I'm not. Which just makes me feel like I deserve something like the pain I feel now because then at least maybe next time I'll actually pay the fuck attention like I know I'm supposed to. I mean, holy shit. You have a fucking mental kid for a wife. How fucked up is that?"

His arms tightened around me. He was quiet for a few more minutes. I let the tears and sobs overtake me even though my ribs ached and my lungs thirst for a real breath of air. I heard him draw in a breath, and for a brief moment I was jealous of him. But then he let it out, and it was just as shaky as my own.

"Letting someone in is difficult. It's made even harder by your own thoughts pushing in against you," he told me quietly. "You tell yourself that you should know, that you should understand, that logically you need to let someone in before you self-destruct. But you still can't seem to manage to let someone in, and it just makes those thoughts become more solidified inside of yourself until someone forces their way in." He pushed out a breath forcefully; it rushed past my ear.

Oh, this man. I was confessing my innermost struggle and here he was comforting me with his own. "And then once they're in, they take the very essence of who you are in their hands and help you heal. They cover the wounds that are still bleeding and help restore the areas that are scarred and scabbed over." He tightened his arms around me again. I cried harder. "But you have to let them in there. You have to let them hold you in their hands, and you have to trust that they'll give you back to you better than you gave yourself to them."

I shook against him. My eyes stung from the tears. I was supposed to know the answers. I was supposed to, but I didn't. I needed help. And I trusted him. I trusted him with so much. Could I trust him with _me_, though? I let out a breath. Of course I could. Even if it turned out that in the end it didn't work, I knew that he would at least understand. He would understand the defenses and the fears. Even if he couldn't help me fix them. Even if I never got better. He would at least understand. And he would love me. I knew that much. He would always love me.

I nodded against him. "Okay, Severus," I muttered on a whispery breath.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

He fell back against the bed, holding me tightly against his chest. He pulled one arm away from me, but quickly returned with a small blue vial in his hand. I took it gratefully and took only a small sip. I was already so tired that I would only need help staying asleep. He surprised me in drinking the rest of it himself. And then he was wrapping his arm back around my tightly. I already felt myself drifting, the potions he brewed were that effective.

"Okay," he murmured.


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: Sorry about the long gap. It's difficult to write well when you're so disheartened by critical responses. It took me a few days to remember why I started writing at all. But now I remember, so I'm back on track with chapters and regular(ish) updating. **_

_**I hope you all enjoy it. The plot is moving along pretty comfortably for my liking... **_

Everything seemed to happen in double time the next morning. Despite taking sleep serum himself, Severus woke up before me. I rolled away from his touch as he shook me gently to awaken.

"Hermione, we don't have time to waste this morning," he whispered. His voice was husky from sleep and warm with affection. I turned towards it, wanting to wrap myself in it and not move for a while. I slowly opened my eyes and was greeted with the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on my wrist.

"Good morning to you, too, dear," I told him, my words blurring together from still being somewhat asleep. I saw him smile before I let my eyes close again. The sleep serum hadn't completely worn off yet; it was fogging my thoughts and making it almost impossible to move.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, a little lilt of laughter in his voice. I smiled. "But in all truth, if you don't get ready now, you'll miss breakfast."

"I'm sure the others won't mind," I muttered groggily, turning away from him and pulling the covers up around me.

"No, they won't," he agreed with me. Well, that was a rare thing. He actually admitted to me being… "But they'll assume we made love instead, and there are those that would pass along that line of thinking to, uh, undesired ends." He told me truthfully. I could hear him struggling to keep bitterness out of his voice. I turned back to him, opening my eyes slowly. Right. We had to make it seem like he detested me physically until this whole thing ended.

I moved my arm, making his hand fall off of it and onto the bed. I covered it quickly with my own. "How much time do we have before it looks suspicious?" I asked him quietly.

"If we walk down together, about ten minutes," he responded, his eyes glued to our intertwined hands.

Well…damn. That wasn't enough time for me to get ready. And I still wanted to review my lesson plans since I hadn't gotten a chance the previous day. I bit my lip as I worried over the options.

He reached out to me with his other hand, turning towards me fully. I noted that he was already dressed in the same robes he'd worn every day I had attended Hogwart's as a student. He brushed a stray piece of hair out of my face. I slowly sat up, nervous that my muscles would be as angry with me today as they had been yesterday.

Damn. That salve worked wonders. It felt like nothing had happened between us the day before. I smiled a little in relief. I looked back at him and saw him smile the smallest amount, too. He seemed to be in better spirits, though it was clear to me that he was worrying and stressing.

"I'll go down now while you get ready. It won't look suspicious if I arrive on time and you're a little late. It might even help our façade."

I nodded slowly before leaning into him. I kissed the bare skin of his neck. He tasted only woodsy; he hadn't had time yet to escape into the dungeons today. He kissed the top of my head once before sighing. I slowly pulled myself away from him. I watched him stand up and walk easily to the doorway of our bedroom that led into the study.

"Oh, one thing you'll need to note," he told me, his voice sad and somber. "We need to make it seem like I cannot stand you when those that are not part of the Order are present." He sighed. "No holding hands. No kissing. No helping you down the stairs. I will have to pretend that I care for you about as much as I did when I first married you, much to my dismay."

I was silent for a moment. He started to talk into the study when I managed to say, "I trust you, Severus."

He turned around slowly, his eyes poring over mine. They darkened from an intense emotion. Some of it was love…but I couldn't understand the rest. He let out a slow breath. "I wish that I had the choice available to me to do what Draco has done," he admitted softly. And then he was gone through the door. I heard his precise steps across the study and up the staircase.

I sighed. _Me, too, Severus_. I thought, holding back a sob. _Me, too._

**_TIME_ ****_(After lunch that same day. It's her first class.)_**

I took a deep breath, tightening my grip on the doorknob for a moment while I collected my thoughts. Slowly, with the precision I had taken up from Severus, I released the breath, letting my chest fall slowly. I looked down at my hand—my knuckles were white. _Great_, I thought. _They aren't even in here yet_. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. And then, before I could push myself over into a panic attack, I opened the door quickly.

The student standing right in front of the door jumped in surprise at the sudden change. Her face paled as she took me in, and I noted that the others were silent and stiff around her. Just as nervous, just expressing it in different ways. I slowly pulled myself out of the doorway, allowing them to enter. They filed in one by one, each looking around with wide, wondrous eyes. I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. I tried to remember being that young, with all of these new experiences before me. But I probably hadn't looked _that_ pale—I had read about everything before I had ever stepped onto the grounds.

I took a small breath, mentally shaking myself, before walking up to the front of the room. I looked into the cauldron simmering on the front table. It was the clearest of clears. Severus was _always_ thorough. I smiled a little bit at the thought, thinking of the coming night. But I pulled myself out of the idea as I looked over the students sitting behind cauldrons with wide, frightened eyes. I sighed a little bit.

"Does anyone happen to know what potion I have in this cauldron?" I asked the room, pointing to the potion Severus had brewed for me before lunch. I looked around for a moment. Part of me hoped that someone had picked up a book and read about sleeping draughts.

I turned around a moment to collect myself when no one volunteered an answer. _They're only eleven_, I reminded myself. _And you were always a freak in class_. Another deep breath to calm myself, and then I turned back around and faced the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

"It's the Draught of Living Death," a small voice in the back of the room told me. "It, uh, it makes the drinker fall into a sleep that is so deep that they never awaken." I looked towards where the voice came from, seeking out its source. A pale-faced Ravenclaw boy stared back at me, his eyes wide and his face pink from a blush. I smiled reassuringly.

"Five points to Ravenclaw," I told him confidently, "for being very well read for your age." He smiled a little back at me before looking down at his hands. I paused myself as a thought flew through my mind—I had just given points to a house. Like, an actual Hogwart's _house_. That wasn't Gryffindor. What a strange experience.

I looked back around the room.

"Will we be brewing that, Professor?" A different voice asked me. This one came from the row of desks directly in front of me—another Ravenclaw.

I shook my head. "No," I told her. And then I addressed the entire classroom. Lesson plans were meant to be followed, after all. "This is a potion that you will not learn until you study potions at the N.E.W.T. level—that is, after your fifth year. It's very complex and any slight modification can alter it to the point that it becomes poison so strong that only a drop will kill." There was a collective gasp. I held back a smile—I wasn't sadistic or anything, right? I just found it so fascinating how I could enthrall them like this.

"What this does show you is the possibilities offered to you through potion making," I continued. Today would be lecture, as would the next few classes. Might as well just get into everything. No need to go through all the unnecessary formalities. But I did steal a little bit from Severus, letting a small smirk light my face. "In this class over the next several years, I will be able to teach how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death." They all stared at me with rapt attention. I mentally thanked Severus for supplying me with such an interesting hook all those years ago.

"But it is not without work. It will take dedication, studying, and lots of practice so that you can do it. There is certainly no time to waste," I told them, turning back to the front table to look over my notes. A quick glance to remind me of how much I was going to cover today, and then I pulled out the First Year Potions book from my bag and opened it to the preface. "Turn to page one, and let's get started."

**TIME**

I climbed the stairs up to the balcony of our personal quarters, following the note that had been left on the front table of my dungeon classroom, right next to the potion he had brewed so lovingly for me. I had spent the last few hours after dinner in the classroom, despite the note promising satisfaction if I, uh, found myself healed. While it had been difficult to ignore the desire bubbling in my core, I needed to prepare the ingredients for a demonstration tomorrow with the Second Years. Now, with the preparations done, it was almost ten—curfew for the students had come nearly an hour ago. The castle was aglow with candles blazing along the walls. I had admired the warmth they exuded as I emerged from the dungeons and made the climb to our quarters. I had done my best to walk with dignity, but now, behind closed doors, I took the steps two at a time, eager to have the open Severus that I had grown to love over the last several weeks under my hands again. I blushed a little at the innuendo within my own thoughts. I paused for the shortest of moments at the closed door. I let out a small breath. And then I opened the door and walked onto the warm, candle-lit balcony.

I looked around for a moment in wonder—I had never come up here before, and it was more beautiful than I would have originally guessed. Candles floated along the edges of the space, glowing brightly. They gave a warm ambiance to the space, and I smiled as it surrounded me. The grounds of Hogwart's stretched before me, and the Forbidden Forest went on as far as I could see. The candles washed it all in a warm, orange light that made it all seem as if it were some painting. The beauty of it all took my breath away for minute.

But I only marveled for a few moments because then my attention was taken by the beautiful man dressed in black standing at the edge of the balcony. He rested his forearms on the railing, his hands held together tightly, his body leaning over the edge. His face was drawn tight with worry, and his eyes were filled with sadness. I walked up to him slowly, dropping his note to the floor. He didn't look at me as I approached him. I bit my lip, stopping myself from launching on him like I desired. Instead, I reached my hand out tentatively and placed it on top of his with the lightest of touches. I joined him in looking out over the beauty that stretched before us. I would do my best in waiting him out until he was ready to talk.

The minutes slowly ticked by, and he didn't even move. I began to bite the inside of my lip out of nervous habit. What was wrong? Had something happened while I was teaching? Had someone been attacked? Were they hurt? Were they killed? I struggled to remain calm. That panic attack returned to the edges of my mind, skirting dangerously close.

"I have heard that you did amazingly well for your first time in front of students," he murmured. His voice blended in with the night that surrounded us. It didn't seem to break the silence, but rather enhanced it and made it fold in more closely around me.

I didn't give him a response. I knew that today had gone well with teaching—the students had left seemingly interested in what I had said. Some of the Ravenclaws were already discussing what their essays might need to include before the next Monday. I bit the inside of my lip again. While it was encouraging to note that I had seemed to teach proficiently today, it wasn't the matter pressing on my mind. I looked back up at him, and this time found him to be looking to his left.

"Finally," I heard him mutter just as an owl landed on the railing beside him. I let go of his hands; he reached out and took the package tied to the owl's leg. He looked it over a moment and then looked back over the darkness.

Why would an owl deliver this late? Post typically came in the early morning, not in the middle of the night. Not unless something disastrous was happening…I forced the panic attack back again. No, that wasn't the only reason why post might come this late. Sometimes, if you were in need of an owl, the only time it came was at night. That dictated that all of your post would also arrive at night. But what had Severus purchased that would require such unusual dependence on another's owl?

I took in a deep breath before reaching out to touch the back of his arm. "What's that?" I asked timidly, afraid that my voice would disturb the darkness in the exact way his did not.

He didn't immediately answer, though he did turn to pore over me. He took a deep breath and then looked back out over the grounds after taking my hand in his free one. "A precaution," he murmured.

A precaution? For what?

"While I detest needing to use muggle contraptions, it would be too risky to brew potions that would serve as an adequate precaution against pregnancy," he explained quietly. I looked back over at the box in his hand. Muggle contraption? Wait…Did he mean a…? "And it's embarrassing to admit that I don't exactly know how…"

He trailed off, grunting in disgust. I traced my thumb lightly over the ridges of the back of his hand while I collected my thoughts. Did he not know how to use a…? But how? Hadn't he used them before? "You've never used one?" I asked quietly. I still couldn't believe that he didn't know how to use one. I mean, even _I _knew how to use one. And I hadn't done anything before two nights ago.

He shook his head slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on some distant point in the forest.

"Magic, remember? Us wizards have our own set of effective precautionary measures."

I let out a small, incredulous laugh. He gave me a disparaging look; I pursed my lips together to keep myself from giggling again. This was all so ridiculous.

"You find my own lack of experience amusing?" He asked, his voice growing brittle.

I immediately lost my laughter. I reached out to him, stroking the line of his jaw. "No, I don't," I told him. He looked at me, his eyes calculating. They were trying to understand my mood flip, I was sure. I squeezed his hand tightly as I dropped my other hand to his hip. "I just find this whole thing ridiculous."

"Hmmm…" he murmured. He dropped my hand, moving his arms until they wrapped around my waist. He pulled me against him tightly; I went willingly, wrapping my own arms around his neck. I kissed him before he could say anything else.

His response was instant. He pulled me into him tighter, and I felt him harden against my stomach. I opened myself up to him without hesitation, and it was only a matter of minutes before he had moved me until I was pressed up against the wall of the balcony, breathless and squirming beneath his wandering hands. I reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up easily until his stomach was exposed. I meant to push myself against the coolness of his skin.

But he stopped kissing me and pulled away from me abruptly, holding me against the wall with the smallest amount of pressure possible. He looked at me in concern, his eyes darkened with desire. "You're sure that you are better?"

"Absolutely, Severus," I told him breathlessly. I reached out to him, and he didn't draw away any further when I touched his shoulders, spreading my fingers apart to feel all the crevices of his bone. I saw him tighten his grip on the box of condoms still in his hands.

"God, this is going to be so embarrassing," he muttered, leaning in to kiss me again, his eyes closing. He rested his forehead against mine when he pulled his lips away from mine; he didn't open his eyes. I kept myself from smiling, despite the humor that shot through me momentarily. For once I knew something that he didn't. I _did_ feel the blush creep in, though. _Don't worry,_ I thought. _It'll be embarrassing for me, too._

I traced down his torso with the lightest of touches, stopping for a moment at his hipbone before trailing it back up and resting it on the side of his neck.

_C'est la vie_.

I kissed him for a few minutes. "It'll be alright," I told him quietly. "I'll show you how."


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: Sorry for the gap again. This chapter has been finished for a while, but I just hadn't had the time to edit with because of school. I hope you enjoy this chapter for the characterization it brings. And I apologize in advance. I can pretty much assure you that you're going to be very upset with me after the end of this chapter.**_

_**Anyway, the plot thickens. :) Thanks to all those who have stuck with me and have encouraged me to continue. I'm definitely going to finish, even if it does end up being as bad as some reviews have told me it will be. I learned in high school that you learn way more from a finished failure than something you never finished. So yeah. Happy reading!**_

Over the next two weeks, Severus and I settled into a new routine to accommodate the new schedule—and, uh, _precautions_. He would wake up earlier than I would and get ready. Once he was finished, he would wake me up, bid me a good morning and then head down to the Great Hall before the students started to trickle into breakfast. I would then pull myself out of bed, get ready, and join him about forty minutes later. He wouldn't talk to me when I arrived though, as per a precaution. Instead, he would shoot me a heated glance as I sat down—I would hide a blush since the glance could definitely pass as a glare to those who didn't know him as well—and he would return to eating his breakfast in stony silence. I would turn and spend my time talking to Remus.

Severus was always _very_ convincing with his precautions. I suppose it came from his years of serving Dumbledore as a double agent. He wouldn't touch me, wouldn't speak to me, wouldn't look at me. It had become tiresome to have to endure being on the other side of all of his walls. I struggled most mornings to remind myself that _this_ was the façade and the he truly did love me. He was just _so_ convincing.

But once we were around the Order, whether at Grimmauld on Fridays or the Burrow on the weekends, he would be so open, so receptive to everything. The others had noticed the change in Severus. Not the change from when we were pretending and when we weren't. The only one who saw that change aside from me was Remus, and he never said anything. The Order noticed the change in Severus before and after we had gotten married. The fact that they could see the change, too, even beyond his willingness—and want—to touch me made me more confident in our relationship. It was a reminder that came when I most needed it every week, after five days of having him withdrawn from me for a good portion of each day. So, I found myself smiling and laughing when we were around the Order. Even if it was a somber night, like the night we learned that Luna had been taken by Rookwood and Yaxley, I would still manage to smile at some point.

And there were some somber nights

_There was another loud pop outside in the garden. I looked up from the stack of essays I had brought with me to the Burrow. I had told the Second Years that I would return the essay before starting the next time I allowed them to practice the simple happiness potion, but I had fallen behind on the grading. There were, uh, _other_ activities that had taken precedence this weekend._

_The others scattered around the room looked up, too. I saw Ginny tap the table in anxious habit. Colette reached for Fleur's hand; her knuckles turned white from how tight she held it. Severus tightened his grip on my hips a small amount, just enough for me to notice his own worry, but not enough for the others to notice if they decided to look at us. It surprised me that he was so worried for Ron and Harry. The door opened, and I forgot about my surprise with Severus as the two young men walked through the doorway._

_I stood up without thinking, pulling my wand out of my lap before it could fall on the floor. Severus tightened his grip on my hips again. He wasn't happy with my leaving his lap. But I couldn't _not_ stand up. Harry didn't seemed to be completely conscious, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. Ron was limping, and it looked like he had broken one of his arms. They were both covered in blood._

_Ginny stood up, too, and then we were both running around the table. I reached out to Ron, tracing my finger down his cheek, seeing how deep the cut was. Ginny didn't look at Harry's wounds—she slammed her body weight into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. His arms came up much slower than hers had and wrapped around her waist. I saw his chest expand with a deep breath. Her shoulders began to shake, and if not for the commotion settling in around us, I would have heard the sobs that moved her own chest._

_I looked back at Ron. He was looking at me, his eyes glazed over from pain. Somehow they still managed to echo his confusion and ask me an unspoken question. I didn't answer it, though. There would be time later to figure out why I was the first one to reach him when there were so many other people much more capable of helping him than I was. Instead, I looked back over the cut that went from his ear to his chin. It was long but not deep—if I healed it within the next few minutes, it wouldn't even scar. But the smell of blood was overpowering, and his clothes were covered in splotches of red. Where was it coming from?_

_I pulled my eyebrows together. "I have a gash in my leg," he told me. His voice was gruff, and it came out strained. He was trying to hide the amount of pain he was in. Biting my lip, I nodded and flicked my wand. The cut in his jaw instantly closed and puffed out as if it had been healing for weeks. I wasn't the best with the healing magic—I hadn't trained to be a Healer or anything. But at least he wouldn't bleed out in front of me while everyone else flew around me as if they had lost their heads._

"_Where on your leg?" I asked him without looking down. The smell was beginning to make me nauseous, and I was fighting my mind over whether or not I should have a panic attack. There was a smell that clung to his clothing that reminded me of the place. It wasn't quite the same, though, so I was able to fight my mind. Of course, the amount of blood might have just diluted it…I pulled myself out of my brain, forcing myself to focus on him despite the nausea and my vision beginning to blur. _

"_My calf," he grunted. I nodded. I almost took a deep breath, but then remembered the amount of blood surrounding me. I stopped myself at the last minutes, sucking in the smallest of breaths instead as I looked down at his legs. His right pant leg had been destroyed up to the bottom of his thigh by a spell. I tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow and led him to an empty chair just a few steps behind me. He collapsed into it gratefully. I looked over his leg, touching it with the lightest of touches. I heard him take in a sharp breath. It was deep and long, running from the top of his Achilles' tendon to the bottom of his knee. _

_How had he _not _bled out yet?_

_I flicked my wand, muttering the incantation this time, needing every extra ounce of magic that I could produce. The bleeding stopped instantaneously, and I saw as the skin slowly stretched over the gash and knitted itself back together. It rose slowly as it did so, puffing out on top of his skin, bright pink against the paleness of his skin. I let out the breath I had been holding. He wouldn't die. Thank goodness. _

_I reached out and ran my finger down the wound, making sure that the scab would hold. He sucked in a harsh breath. I looked up at him quickly, retracting my hand and biting my lip. I didn't know a spell that would take away the pain. God, why hadn't I learned this stuff when we were in the thick of it with the War? That would have been the logical time to do so. I bit my lip harder, trying not to panic. Alright. I didn't know a spell that would take away the pain…but I did know of a potion._

_I looked up and found Severus looking at me across the table. His eyebrows were pulled together, and his eyes sparkled from worry. "What do you need?" He asked me quietly, urgently._

"_Some of my salve. It's in my bag."_

_He nodded and flicked his own wand. My bag rose out from the corner I had tucked it into when we had arrived and zoomed towards the table. Severus reached out a hand and grabbed it out of the air without looking away from me. I couldn't help but smile; he smirked back, arching one eyebrow. I struggled to keep my laugh inside. Now was definitely _not_ the time to flirt with him._

_He reached into the bag and pulled out the salve. He looked back up at me and tossed it to me with a light flick of his wrist. I caught it easily and opened it with feverish fingers. The sooner I got him out of pain, the sooner he could lie down and recuperate. I rubbed it into his skin as lightly as possible, remembering how it almost felt like it was burning if your skin and muscles were in a significant amount of pain._

_He drew in a harsh breath. "Sorry," I muttered, but I didn't push it into his skin any harder even though I knew it would go faster if I did. I didn't want him to hurt any more than he already was. And, besides, if I pushed him past his threshold for pain, he would collapse, and then we wouldn't know what had happened. Harry had already reached his—Ginny and Tonks were looking over him where he lay on the couch, completely passed out. _

_Finally, after several excruciatingly long minutes, the salve had completely rubbed into his skin, and the angry red of the healing scab had subsided into a dull pink. I let out a long breath and sat back on my heels, trying not to lose myself to the panic attack. None of them knew they happened, and now certainly would not be a convenient time. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, fighting feebly against the surge of emotions colliding within me. The panic started to pull me under, tugging me down slowly, steadily, as if it had all the time in the world to do so._

"_Hermione?" Ron's concerned voice slowly melted through the confusion in my mind. I was having a difficult time remembering where I was and who was around me. Did my arms tingle from helping Ron or from her subjecting me to the Cruciatus Curse? Who was whimpering? And why was my face getting so wet?_

_Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to turn around. My torso followed easily, but my knees didn't seem to move under me. It felt as if I had become frozen. Why wouldn't they stop Teddy from crying? Why wouldn't he calm down? The sobs were so _loud_. Why was the room suddenly so quiet? What had happened? Was Harry alright? _

_Heat pressed against me; reality slammed into me. Teddy wasn't crying. I was. And the room was quiet because they were watching me disintegrate before their eyes. I realized that those strong hands belonged to Severus just as they were tightening around me. He pressed me against him until all I could feel was the heat emanating from his body. It began to warm me, the heat slowly sinking through my skin and into my core. I was so cold. When had I gotten so cold? It felt as if I had never been warm. I collapsed into his heat, too weak to resist the panic attack any longer. The emotions slammed into me with full force, and I couldn't find my lungs. I had lungs, right? So why weren't they where they were supposed to be? _

_Voices floated around me, unattached to any one person._

"_Is she ok?"_

"_What's going on?"_

"_Why's she doing that? She wasn't even part of the attack!"_

_Severus began pushing against me, moving me quickly until I felt the floor press against my back. His body covered mine, encircling me with his as a protective boundary, hiding me from the others. He moved my hair away from my face and placed his hand next to my head. With the other, he gripped my hip._

"_This is _not_ the time, Hermione."_

"_Oh God. Really? Here?"_

_I struggled to breathe. Did they seriously think he was pushing against me like this to _arouse_ me? I mean, I guess I could understand. He _was_ wrapped around me like he often was when we made love. But I had seriously just lost all control in front of them, brought back to that place because of a damned smell that wasn't even the same. And it was diluted, distorted by the blood. I couldn't be sure it was even in the same genre of smells. Yet I had still managed to lose it, succumb to the hurricane that was raging within me. _

"_Breathe," he murmured into my ear, his hair falling around his face and brushing my cheek. I knew, even though my eyes were still closed, that his lips would be hidden from everyone watching. I did as he said, trying to find my lungs. But I couldn't manage. The smallest, weakest of breaths came through my lips._

_He laughed a little in my ear. "Bastard," I muttered breathlessly. My chest ached, and my head spun. His hand tightened on my hip. He lips brushed the edge of my ear._

"_You're alright," he muttered, serious again. His breath skated over my ear and neck. I shivered a little in response. "I thought that the blood would cover the smell. I'm sorry that I was not by you sooner." I tried to take in another breath, but a sob interrupted me. He hushed me gently. "You're alright, Hermione. She is not here. She will not hurt you again."_

_I sucked in a breath and all I could smell was him—woodsy and musky, like he did when he had spent more time brewing that day than doing other activities. It was as if cold water had been splashed on me—I sucked in a deep breath almost violently. He let out a breath of his own. Slowly, so slowly, the hurricane calmed within me. I could think in straight lines again. _

_I felt the blush creep into my cheeks just as Severus pulled away from me. I opened my eyes hesitantly, scared as to what they all would be thinking. God. How fucking embarrassing. Severus greeted me with warm, concerned eyes. The smallest of smiles played across his lips when I looked at him. I felt him move his hand until it wrapped around my neck, and then he pulled me up into his torso, holding me tightly against him._

_I hid my face in his shoulder, unwrapping my own arms from around my chest. I wrapped them tightly around his waist. He pressed his face into my hair; I could feel his breath move across the nape of my neck. I tried not to cry anymore, but the tears just kept on coming. Fucking panic attacks. _

"_Is she alright?" Ginny. It was Ginny. And she didn't sound frustrated or anything. Just worried. _

_I felt Severus look up, presumably at her. I didn't move, staying pressed against him firmly to try to hide the sobs beginning to tear through my chest again. What the _hell_ was wrong with me? Why did these still happen, even after Severus had come in and helped me? _

"_She will be," he told her confidently. At least one of us thought that. I wasn't so sure anymore. Part of me wondered if I would always struggle with these, living a life avoiding the smells that would trigger these horrific episodes._

"_What happened?" I wasn't sure who asked. It was female. _

_Severus was quiet for a moment. _

"_Oh, come on. You can't _possibly_ say that whatever that was that happened is _normal_, Severus." Molly, this time. And she sounded closer than Ginny and the other voice. _

"_It was a panic attack," he said after another few silent moments. His voice was withdrawn, as if he didn't want to be talking about it. I didn't blame him. I didn't want them to know either. "They happen often and are most often triggered by a certain smell."_

_There was silence for a minute. I didn't pull away from him. How could I face them after they'd seen that? Severus sighed after a while, tightening his arms that wrapped around me._

"_What happened, Ron?" Severus asked after a moment, his voice subdued._

_There were another few moments of silence. _

"_We managed to find Rookwood, just like we told Tonks. She told you all, right?" His voice was cold, numb, detached, as if he wasn't even conscious of what he was speaking. "We should probably have asked for some of you to come help, but when we learned that he had Luna _with_ him instead of held at some different location like we had originally thought, we decided that action needed to be taken." Ron's voice suddenly stopped. _

"_It didn't work, though, not really. I mean, Rookwood is dead, and Yaxley was seriously injured before he disapparated." His voice hollowed out, as if he was speaking after being sentenced to death._

"_So what went wrong?" Arthur asked._

"_Luna's dead, too."_

I pulled myself forcibly out of the memory. It had been nearly a week since it had happened, since that night when Ron and Harry had shown up at the Burrow barely alive. We had already done everything we could for Luna except grieve. I snuck a glance at Severus; he watched me with cool eyes that carefully hid the concern they held. Just one more day of classes, and then he would be himself again tonight at Grimmauld. I just needed to get through my two First Years classes today, and then I would be able to be open with him like I wanted to be. He would hold me and remind me that it wasn't my fault she was gone.

After a minute, he looked over my head. I looked up, too, and found an owl landing in front of me, a letter attached to its foot. I reached out tentatively, doing my best to keep my hands from shaking. I rarely got post—what had happened?

I opened the letter with careful fingers and then took in a hard breath.

It was from Susan.


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: ... ... ... *cautiously walks out from behind tree* Ummm... Hi? Please don't hit me. I'm sorry. I really am. Life and dance and work and college and... **_

**_... It's a long chapter, so does that make up for anything? Be warned that the next chapter is going to be _very_ short. It's one scene, but it has a special treat with it. _**

**_Ummm... So yeah... I hope you enjoy this chapter._**

I quickly unfolded the rest of the letter, pulling it open forcefully enough that part of it ripped. My breathing began to quicken from worry, and I felt Severus subtly draw himself up closer to me. His heat radiated next to me; it gave my mind peace. I looked down at Susan's small, concise script and began to read.

_Hermione,_

_They've discovered where Draco and I have been residing for the last several months since all of this mess started. Narcissa Malfoy appeared on our doorstep last night shortly after dinner, saying that she had come in hopes of seeing her son and creating some kind of peace with us. While I know that her sentiments are often fueled by the love I know she holds for Draco, when I finally persuaded Draco to let her inside our home, he was violently attacked by two men standing just beyond sight in the garden. We had no choice but to stun his mother and set a protective boundary just outside of the home. We gave ourselves enough time to gather the most essential of our items and then left. We ask that you, along with Severus, help us find a new home that we can then protect using the Fidelius Charm. I can think of no other person we would trust more than Severus to perform such a complicated spell. _

_We have very little time to discuss the details. With only four months left until our sweet, precious daughter is born, we are in desperate need of solid protection. Draco is distraught that his parents have truly chosen to betray him for Bellatrix and her distorted view of a perfect society. He distresses over the idea that he will not be able to provide a safe, stable home for his daughter when that was his motivation in breaking his ties with Narcissa and Lucius in the first place. _

_Please help us, Hermione. Send for us at once as soon as you have reached a decision with Severus. _

She didn't sign her name, though it wasn't necessary to do so—it was clear that it was her writing to me. I looked over the letter again, biting my inner lip in worry. Where were they now? Where could we help them move? It would be too dangerous for them to move into the castle with us—much too public of a venue. Severus and I were having a difficult time with the lack of privacy as it was. I couldn't possibly imagine what it would be like to try to hide Susan and Draco within the castle's walls as well as our own love.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, not moving when I heard the footsteps begin en masse towards the entrance of the Great Hall. While I didn't have to teach until after lunch today, just like every Friday, I normally left with the students and worked in my classroom, preparing potions and grading essays. Today, though, I purposefully stayed seated, folding and unfolding the letter in my hands, silently conveying to Severus my wish to speak with him. As the last of the students left the Hall, and the Professors stood up to follow them, I snuck a glance at him. He was looking intently at me, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. I bit my lip again, and he nodded.

"Balcony," he mouthed with an infinitesimal twitch of his lips. I barely nodded my confirmation and then stood up, taking the letter tightly in my hand. I didn't look back at Severus as I walked out of the Great Hall, and I definitely didn't look at my still full plate of food. I was so nauseous that just the idea of eating made me gag.

I took the long way getting to the stairs that lead to his office and our subsequent quarters, counting my steps up to the balcony to keep myself from succumbing to the panic attack fluttering at the edges of my conscious mind. I'd already had one after Severus had left for breakfast this morning. They were more than just a daily occurrence now since Luna's death and the trauma of that Friday night. It wasn't a question of whether or not I would have one—it was more simply how many I would be forced to live through.

I let out a forceful breath and pushed away the nausea that hadn't yet subsided from breakfast, reaching out for the door and lightly opening it. Severus stood facing me, leaning against the railing of the balcony. His eyes pierced me with a passionate heat that had me launching myself at him with a force I hadn't known since that horrific Friday night. His arms wrapped around me almost instantaneously as I slammed into him, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder. He didn't say anything for a moment as I absorbed the heat from his body, feeling its warmth stretch into the depths of me. This was the only time I ever felt truly warm, alive, fearless—when I was lost in his embrace.

He kissed the top of my head tenderly, pressing light kisses along the back of my head and down my neck. His grip tightened on my hips, and I pressed myself more fully into him, breathing deeply to better breathe in his woodsy scent. While it didn't calm my stomach, it did calm my mind—the panic attack tucked itself away to torture me at some other point of weakness. I slowly withdrew my hands from my chest and wrapped them tightly around his back, pulling him closer into me despite the painfulness of his collarbone pressing into my cheek. To be able to _breathe_, to be able to feel again…It would always be worth the pain.

We stood there for several minutes, both of us soaking in the other. Eventually he released me, pulling his arms away from me slowly, choosing to take my hand in his instead.

"What happened?" He asked me, his voice layered with concern.

I looked up at him, suddenly worried as to what he might say…or do. It made the nausea worse even than before. What if he decided that helping them would be fruitless? Would he still be willing? What if he couldn't actually perform the Fidelius Charm? What would we do then? Was there somebody that could? The only person I had ever known to be able to cast is had been dead for nearly three years. I bit my lip from the anxiety, and my chest convulsed a little bit from gagging the smallest amount. His eyebrows turned down in concern, and his mouth opened like he was going to change the subject to me.

We didn't have time for that, so I told him everything that Susan had written. Of course I did. I told him what had happened the night before, and how they were having a girl, and how they were worried, and how I was too. It spilled out of me before I could restrain it, organize it into coherent thoughts.

He didn't say anything for a moment as he searched my face intently. His chest then fell as he pushed out a heavy breath. "I need to know how safe they are at the moment. The Fidelius Charm takes several days of preparation. I need to know that they have a protected place to stay until we can cast the charm."

I nodded, silent. He looked me over for a moment, his eyes glazed over from thought.

"If they are safe at the moment, then we will continue on as if the attack had not happened, casting the spell on their home in the next week." He paused for a moment. He turned away from me, resting his left hand on the railing of the balcony. I noted with pleasure how his ring shone in the morning sunlight. His right hand tightened its grip on my left one, his thumb playing with the band of my own ring. I bit my lip to hold back my smile; now was _not_ the time to be turned on. Even if he _was_ completely irresistible. "If they are _not_ safe, we will need to find them a safe place to dwell until the charm can be performed. I will speak to Arthur and Molly tonight about that possibility of using the Burrow. Lucius has confided in me that he does not understand why Draco has cut ties with him. He thinks it impossible for him to trust anyone that would be considered the enemy. I cannot imagine them seeking out Arthur and Molly to find his son. The Burrow would be the safest temporary location for them. I'm sure Susan would appreciate the help with her pregnancy, anyway."

I nodded, walking up to him and resting my head against his arm, wrapping my right hand around his elbow. I placed a chaste kiss on his bicep before answering him. It was so nice to have him with me like this during the day. I knew it was selfish of me, but I didn't want it to end. "I'll send a response to her before my class begins."

He didn't say anything, nor did he move from where he was. He simply squeezed my hand a little in response and then continued to stare out over the grounds. I wondered if he was reluctant to return to the pretense as well.

And then he sighed, and I knew that something was troubling him.

"What's wrong?"

"I received a letter from Lucius this morning before you came to down to breakfast." He didn't look at me, and his voice was withdrawn, though it hadn't lost its warmth. He was troubled by whatever the letter had said, but he wanted me to know it. He was making a conscious effort to keep inside of his walls when his instincts screamed to push me out. I hugged his arm a little tighter.

He continued in that same voice. "Lucius has informed me that those who remain have become anxious. Yaxley has even begun to wonder if I am still loyal to them. They want a way in to the remaining Order members. They thought that the death of Ms. Lovegood would be enough to shake the group and would provide them with a moment of weakness to let them in."

It had worked, I realized with chagrin. Her death had pulled us apart as a group, fracturing us off into smaller groups that didn't necessarily communicate with the others. It had certainly happened with Severus and me, although that had already happened to an extent before Luna's death.

"It actually worked," he said, a lilt in his voice as if he were actually surprised.

"So why weren't they able to get in?" I asked him, my voice subdued from the nausea rolling through my stomach and the worry that made my stomach clench.

"I didn't tell them that it had worked. They think that we came together to form even tighter bonds after her death last Friday."

My husband. Only my husband would be brave enough to outright _lie_ to the most deadly group of wizards known to him. And people thought Slytherins were horrible people… I felt the smallest of smiles play against my lips. And then I grimaced as my stomach rolled, and I gagged a little. What the heck was with all this nausea? Was it in replacement of an entire panic attack? I definitely was _not_ alright with that trade off.

"You're alright?" He asked, his voice changing instantly back into its soft, quiet timber.

I nodded. "I think it's just the worry over Susan and Draco and the stress of all that's going on right now. My body just can't handle it."

He nodded as well and then was silent for a moment. I stood there, scanning the top of the forest, thinking over what he had said. They were looking for a way in. If they didn't find one soon, they would begin questioning whether or not Severus was truly loyal to them. That couldn't be allowed to happen. The information we had because of his communication with Lucius had been imperative. I knew that. I completely understood that. But it wasn't what fueled the protectiveness within me. No. If Severus lost loyalty with Lucius and the other remaining assholes, it would mean that he was just as dead as the rest of us. And that wasn't alright with me. It never would be. I had to make sure that he remained safe.

So how could we get them in without actually putting someone at true risk? We could even make it work to our advantage. If we got someone with them, they could actually help form an attack. With it happening both from the outside and the inside, there would be no way to avoid their own demise. But how could we get someone there and still make it seem like Severus was remaining entirely faithful to them?

I wrestled with that idea, trying to find a logical answer. Severus remained silent beside me. It was as if he had already found the answer to whatever question had been raging inside his own mind. He always seemed to be two steps ahead of me. How infuriating. I was so used to being top of the class.

And then it slammed into me like a freight train going at full speed. My breath left me in a rush as the realization settled over me fully.

"Me," I whispered.

He didn't respond to me verbally, but I felt him tense against me. Son of a bitch. He was already there, wasn't he? That bastard had gotten to where I was now long before the problem was ever presented to me.

"I'm not happy about it," he told me, his voice falling with precision from the worry that had to be flooding his mind. "If there is another way, I will find it."

"What will I need to do?" I asked him in trepidation. I didn't want to be anywhere _near_ that bitch ever again. Even after she was dead.

"I'm not sure yet. We will need to bring it up tonight at Grimmauld Place. We'll create a plan that can be executed quickly. The only parameters we will need to work within is establishing the Fidelius Charm for Draco and Susan. I want that cemented before anything regarding—" He paused as if he were choking on the phrase. "Before I allow them access."

I nodded. Slowly, I squeezed his hand tightly and then turned into him, hiding my head in his shoulder. "I love you, Severus."

"I love you, Hermione. More than I will ever be able to accurately express."

**TIME** _**[That evening]**_

"You're not going tonight," he told me firmly, brushing my hair away from my face and wiping my face with a dry hand towel in our bathroom. It was the third time that afternoon that I had thrown up. I hadn't even eaten anything. The first was right after I sent the response to Susan. And then I had thrown up in between my two classes this afternoon. And now, right before we were supposed to leave for Grimmauld. I hadn't eaten anything at dinner because my stomach had been so upset, and I had still puked. Something was definitely wrong, but…

"I need to be there. We're telling them what needs to happen tonight. And we need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," I told him without any conviction. I felt _awful_. I honestly just wanted to crawl into our bed with him, curl up around him, and fall asleep before I could puke ungracefully in front of him again.

He shook his head, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. "You need to stay and rest. I'm worried about you." Slowly I nodded, giving in to him. He'd been telling me for the last ten minutes that he didn't want me to go tonight. He was probably right. Rest and a stress free environment was what I need. I just… I just felt very uncomfortable being left out of planning something directly involving me.

He stood up in one fluid motion. He continued to hold my hand; he played with my ring a little—a nervous habit he had developed over the last three weeks. "I'll tell you what is said tonight, plus my own thoughts on the entire matter, when I get back. You just sleep and drink that potion that I made for you."

I nodded and stood up cautiously, holding tightly onto his hand. His arms reached out and wrapped around my waist to steady me. Without a word, he led me to the bed and helped me under the covers. And then he kissed my forehead for minute. When he pulled away, I smiled up at him.

"You're wonderful," I told him.

He lifted one side of his mouth in an unconvincing half smile. I would take considering the circumstances. "I love you," he whispered.

I smiled as he walked out the door. My mind wandered as his footsteps faded up the staircase until I could no longer hear him. I purposefully avoided thinking of what would be discussed tonight around the table in the kitchen. Instead, I thought of Severus, of our nights together, of our weekends spent discovering each other, of our stolen moments in the castle during the week.

And then, just like this morning, something slammed into me. I pulled the covers away, my breath coming in short pants. For a frantic moment, I looked around the room. My eyes lit upon my bag sitting unostentatiously atop my dresser. I quickly got up and grabbed it. I pulled it open and checked for muggle currency. Just 7 pounds. But that would be enough, right?

I bit my lip. It was dangerous for me to go wandering around London alone, especially at night, with the way things currently stood. And Severus _was_ right. I need to rest. I need to unwind from the week.

But I couldn't. Not tonight. Not when I had a chance to figure this out without Severus asking me about where I was going and why I needed muggle currency.

I needed to know. I needed to know.

I rushed through the castle, not stopping to explain myself when everyone stared at me with strange, worried expressions. I needed to know. I stepped out into the cool late August air and practically ran across the grounds, despite another wave of nausea rolling through me. The moment I was outside of the gates, I turned sharply to my left, welcoming the restriction that came with apparating gratefully.

I needed to know. Now.


	24. Chapter 24

**_A/N: And here it is. Yes, y'all were right. I didn't make it that hard to guess, though, did I? Anyway, there IS a special treat with this treat. _**

**_Ahem: This chapter is from SEVERUS'S point of view. I repeat: This is NOT Hermione's point of view. PLEASE do not get confused! _**

**_Next chapter I will return to Hermione's mind. I felt that Severus's head allowed for some better character development and provided better information that Hermione would have in this particular situation. _**

**_I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. Sorry about the wait. :)_**

_Four weeks_, I thought to myself as I walked towards the castle. _Four weeks to figure out how to get her back out alive._ I looked around the darkened landscape of Hogwart's grounds, my eyes probing the dark, my lips pulled down in a frown. My hand twitched over my wand tucked just beneath the collar of my travelling robes. It was uncommon for me to walk the grounds this late, and although I never truly got frightened by the darkness like some of the other Order members, the conversation that had taken place tonight had left me oddly on edge. To talk of Hermione as if she were just some _object _to be tossed around made my blood curl. I grunted my unease as I walked through the large entrance doors.

I thought over again how much simpler it would have been just to use the fireplace at Grimmauld and use Floo Powder to return to Hogwart's. It would not have required me to pull out my wand as I did and cast a silencing charm on the door as it thundered back into its closed position. It would not have required me to walk the empty corridors in complete darkness as to not anger the portraits. It would not have required me to walk the grounds from Hogsmeade in the stillness of a night with a waning moon. Yes, using Floo Powder would have been much simpler.

I suppose the easiest answer for why I had chosen to apparate was that I wanted to ensure that I did not startle Hermione—nor did I want to awaken her if she had fallen asleep during the time I was at Grimmauld.

But the truth of the matter was that apparating had allowed me several minutes to collect my thoughts and to control the anger coursing through my veins before I could harm her with any lack of control. The cold, dark walk to the gargoyle provided me nearly ten minutes with which to calm the blood curdling rage that was rocketing through me. It had been a long time since a situation such as the one I was currently arranging had bothered me so.

Of course, _I_ was always that one risking my life. I wasn't willfully handing over my nineteen year old wife to a woman known to torture stronger opponents into insanity in a mere forty-eight hours.

I clenched my fists hard enough that I felt my nails break the skin of my palms.

_Calm yourself_, I commanded myself silently as I approached the gargoyle. _You will do nothing but scare her more if you allow your control to slip_.

"Dumbledore," I murmured to the gargoyle. He obediently leapt aside with no mention of the lateness of the hour. Enchanted statues were always better than a picture to guard such things as living quarters. The statues never grumbled if you sought entrance at three in the morning.

Not that it was that late this time. I had made sure to leave Grimmauld as quickly as possible. The order members who had attended the dinner had most likely thought that he was distancing himself again with Hermione being gone. In truth, I simply preferred being around my wife than being around them.

That, though, was the case with all things. Including brewing. That little truth had certainly surprised me when I figured it out one afternoon. Brewing had always been my refuge, the mechanism I used to relieve myself of the burdens of being a double agent. And even before then, when I was bitter about _her_ marrying _him_, of choosing the easy way out, of abandoning me. Brewing had always provided me with an obsession to fill up my mind so that I could become numb to all that. To have her outrank that, to come before it, honestly frightened me. There was a vulnerability that inherently came with such a decision, conscious or otherwise, and knowing that it was there should have made me uncomfortable.

I grunted again as I admitted to myself yet again just how far in I had allowed her to come into me. I truly had given her every part of me—more so than even _she_ had been given.

I walked down the stairs, noting with some chagrin that the candles had already been extinguished. She was sleeping. I knew that her sleeping was good—the state in which I had left her had made me worried for her well-being. Sleep was what she needed in order to help heal. And, if she had managed to fall asleep with the aid of a potion, perhaps it meant that her mind was beginning to heal at last as well. She had seemed to be on the mend before term began with fits only occurring once a day at its worse. Now that seemed to be the best a day could offer. She would disintegrate from her mind out if something didn't change soon.

But still. I enjoyed our discussions at night when she came out of the bathroom in a pair of simple cotton pajama pants and a light shirt that accentuated her bralessness. She'd always climb gently into the bed, crawling delicately across the covers until she was within a few inches of me. She'd pull back the covers and just sit there, watching me. Sometimes I'd be blatantly watching her. Others, I'd be subtly watching her from the corner of my eye while pretending to read whatever book I had grabbed from the various bookcases in the study. Eventually I would look up and, on good nights, we would have a small conversation before sinking into the sheets together. On bad nights, there would be one of her fits, a calming period that would last an indeterminable length, and then we would sink into the sheets—if the fit hadn't caused her to shy away from me like they occasionally did.

I walked through the study with easy steps despite the darkness. I refrained from speeding up my pace from the excitement of seeing her. She was already asleep, and I refused to wake her just to satisfy my own carnal needs. I had learned my lesson—or rather, I had chosen to starve the selfishness that had pushed me to take her one afternoon in a vacant classroom. She had been willing enough, but it was a lapse in judgment on my part that could have gotten our little charade found out. Not to mention that we hadn't used one of those blasted muggle condoms I had insisted on using every time prior. And every time since. Pregnancy wasn't something she would be able to handle right now. Her mind was already _so_ fragile. To add the stress of a new life to harbor and protect—though the idea made a swell of pride flow through my chest—would push over that ledge she was so precariously dangling over.

I strode into the bedroom with quiet, precise steps, eager to join her in bed and surround her with my body—even if we were not sinking together tonight. To be away from her when normally I would have her free to me was difficult tonight. I stopped short just inside of the doorway, though, when I saw that the bed was empty.

_What the hell_? I thought, forcefully pushing aside the worry that was pushing against my chest, causing it to tighten. The candles were all out except one above my dresser. That was how I always left the candles for her if I were waiting for her. Occasionally she would stay behind after the Order meeting had officially ended to talk to Mrs. Potter. But I always waited for her _here_, in the bedroom. So where was she?

I narrowed my eyes, clenching my fists again until I felt the bite of my nails against the skin of my palms. I forced myself into the room. My eyes flitted over the room, dissecting it for any item that might be out of place. Her bag was thrown carelessly onto the top of her dresser, a few items falling out—including what looked like only a few cents in muggle currency. She had gone somewhere. But why did she need muggle currency? It wasn't safe for her to be wandering streets alone at night, and _certainly_ not muggle streets where no one even knew her.

I clenched my jaw, restraining myself from pulling apart her bag for answers. Instead, in order to calm my raging blood, I continued my meticulous dissection. The bathroom door was closed, but I could see just the smallest of slivers of light peeking out from underneath. I relaxed my hands, rolling my head back to relieve the stress I had placed there in the last few minutes. I crossed the room in three steps, dropping my wand on her dresser next to her bag. But I paused in front of the door. Had she gotten sick again? She would be too embarrassed to ask for help if she had, and she wouldn't be able to open the door. I dropped my hand from where I had positioned it to knock and turned the knob silently, creeping it open, looking into the bathroom hesitantly.

Only one candle was lit, it cast a long shadow on her. She was perched on the edge of the tub, her hands in her lap. She was looking down at them, and she hadn't pulled back her hair like she normally did. It blocked her face from my view. I struggled to restrain my anger. I wasn't angry at her, after all. Her peculiar behavior was simply pushing the limits of my defenses, my restraints. I walked into the room.

"Hermione?" I asked quietly, letting the whisper escape me before I reached her so that I didn't frighten her.

Her shoulders lifted as she inhaled deeply before she slowly looked up at me. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused and distant. She was even paler now than she had been when I'd left her in the bed to go to Grimmauld. I hurried my steps, reaching her before she could even exhale.

Her eyes seemed to focus as I reached out to her, grasping her shoulders delicately. "What's wrong?" I asked her. My voice in that same gentle whisper, but my voice held an edge that demanded to be answered.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she lifted her hands, showing me a white piece of plastic that must have been some kind of muggle contraption. One end narrowed into and almost point—she had that end covered in a tissue. The other side was more fat and square and had some time of display board with two thin, pink lines going through it.

I had no idea what it was or what it meant. And that didn't sit well with me.

"I don't know what that is," I told her, my voice dropping from frustration.

Again, she didn't say anything. She just looked at me, her eyes running over my face again and again. I saw her throat bulge for a moment as she gulped.

"It's a pregnancy test," came the quietest reply.

I arched one eyebrow. I saw her swallow convulsively again.

"It's positive."

My mind struggled for a minute under those words. _It's positive._ I looked at her.

_It's positive_.

We had actually created a life? My wife was carrying a child? A baby? She was going to have a baby?

_It's positive_.

Hermione was going to become a mother at nineteen? But—

I had taken every precaution I knew to take without risking the true nature of our relationship being exposed. How could we have created a life? My mind searched frantically, searching for the weak spot in the plan I had so meticulously created to keep her safe. It zeroed in on that afternoon in the classroom.

I had my answer, but it didn't really matter. Not really. Hermione was going to be a mother.

And I… My God. I was going to be a father. How could I raise a child?

Moments of my own youth crowded my mind's eye, reminding of my own father's shortcomings.

I was going to be a father. I'd…I'd have to learn how to nurture something so small, so helpless. I was surprised to find that the idea didn't repulse me. Part of me—

Part of me was genuinely intrigued. We had created something. Together. Hermione was harboring a life inside of her. Right now. In only a few months, she would bring _my_ child into the world.

She needed to remain safe. I had to make sure that she was safe and protected at all times. I would figure out a way to keep her out of harm's way. There would have to be another way to get into the Manor, to get into their ranks and destroy them. Because I wouldn't allow Hermione. Not now. Not anymore.

I leaned forward, moving my arms from her shoulders until they wrapped around her back. Gently. She leaned her head forward, her breathing shaky and uncoordinated. I pressed her more firmly into me and placed soft, chaste kisses along the back of her neck.

"I won't let them touch you," I promised her.

She started to cry against me, releasing all of her fear into me as if it had always been the most natural option. I hugged her tighter, careful to keep pressure off of her midsection. I dropped my hands down to her hips and kissed her neck again. I clenched my jaw for a minute against my own emotions. I needed to be strong for her. I needed to be able to protect her. I kissed her neck again before snaking one arm back around until it lay between us. I gently pulled the test from her hands, dropping it into the tub. She slowly wrapped her hands around my waist, crying harder.

I ran that hand through her hair, pushing it aside so that I could trail kisses down her covered shoulder. "I won't let them take our baby," I promised her softly.

All be damned if I broke that promise.


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: SO... hi? Umm...yes. Happy reading...? Please don't riot... Please?**_

I didn't want to cry, not when it was supposed to be such a happy thing. Holding a life was supposed to be good. I bit my lip as Severus pulled me into him, whispering the promise of safety into my ear. I should be happy. I shouldn't be so scared. I shouldn't be so worried. I shouldn't _not_ want this to be happening. But I didn't. I bit my lip harder. I didn't want this. I _couldn't_.

The tears came harder. We had to stop those that remained, those that sought to destroy everything all of us had built to be so ignorantly weak. Who would get inside? Who would tip the scales so that we could win? I _had_ to make it inside. I couldn't stand to be the weakest link yet _again_ when it was within my power to stop everything from falling apart.

And beyond that: how would I manage to keep this baby alive when I couldn't help but succumb to the panic raging constantly within me? I _couldn't_ be pregnant. I couldn't. It was not possible. Severus had done everything he could to make sure that we were protected. And I had helped him. I hadn't once resented the fact that we had to use a condom. I never once mentioned how much I had preferred feeling him like I had that first time, that night before the start of term some six weeks ago.

The tears came faster, though my mind was surprisingly calm and clear. I tightened my arms in an attempt to remind myself what was real. Severus was real. He was here. He wasn't angry or upset or hurt. He didn't even seem like he resented what that stupid piece of muggle science told us. Maybe…maybe it wasn't a bad thing? Maybe it wasn't so horrible news. But…I couldn't see it. The shock was still too overwhelming. So I just leaned into him, pulling him tighter against me, and cried until there were no more tears left to fall down my cheeks and wet his shoulder.

I hiccupped a few times when this happened, but I refused to release him from my embrace. Instead, I turned my head so that it rested more comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. My chest shuddered as I pulled in a deep breath and sucked down the intense woodsy scent of Severus. It settled over me as it always did, and I receded into its warmth. While my mind was clear from the ever imminent panic attack in a way it hadn't been in nearly two months, it still found peace within his scent. It chased away the overwhelming shock that kept me thinking of only the ways that this pregnancy was the worst thing that could happen.

And as the shock receded, a warm, bubbling sensation began fill my chest. So slowly, filling my chest to the point where I couldn't help but smile. At first, I didn't recognize it—months of panic attacks and years of the fear of war had clouded my mind to the point where I almost had forgotten what it felt like. Besides, it had been so long since I had felt it in such great of a magnitude. Eight years since I'd been visited by Professor McGonagall and had it explained to me that I was a witch. Eight years since I'd stepped onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters with all the supplies I would need for my first year. Perhaps…Perhaps it was even stronger this time than those first exciting moments of the Wizarding world.

Excitement. Expectation. Elation.

Holding a life _was_ a good thing—a wonderful gift. And…just because I hadn't been planning on having a child this young, and certainly not this early on in a marriage…didn't mean that it wasn't a happy thing. Some routines would change. Some plans would have to be remade. And…and some action would have to be taken quickly before public word spread of my carrying Severus's child. But that couldn't—no, _wouldn't_—subtract from the pure elation that flooded my chest. I was going to make Severus a father. He would hold his own child in only a few months. To imagine all the love that I knew he held within his heart expressed in such tender motions with a _baby_. It left me breathless from joy. And, well, wasn't that something?

It would all be worth it—all the trouble that this pregnancy would bring—it would be worth it just to see Severus wrapped around a person so small and so utterly _him_.

I took in another deep breath, my chest shuddering again from the sudden expansion. His arms tightened around me the smallest amount, and I felt his lips press against my shoulder. "You'll be ok," he whispered, his voice so deep that it rumbled in my chest. "It'll all be all right."

"I know," I whispered, tightening my arms around him for a moment. "I know it will be." I pulled away from him so that I could look him in the eyes. I was surprised to find tears tracks running down his cheeks. He was…he was just as surprised and worried as I was. I unwrapped one arm from around him and wiped away a tear that had just begun its descent down. "I have you, Severus. Of course everything will be ok."

He took in a shuddering breath before he nodded. And then he leaned in and kissed me, so gently. My response was instant, and I blushed as I felt desire warm the core of my body. His arms tightened around me again, but in such a different way. My lips faltered, and I pulled away deftly, too embarrassed to look at him. We were pregnant. I was holding a life within me. Now was _not_ the time to be making love. I mean, what if it wasn't even safe? It wasn't like I _knew_ if it was or not.

Severus looked at me, and I saw the hurt in his eyes. Not that he tried to hide it from me.

"Sorry," I muttered. He slowly shook his head and tightened his arms around me, trying to pull me back into him. I resisted, though, despite knowing that it would only make him feel worse. "I mean, I _want_ to. I just…I don't know if it's safe." I whispered, feeling my cheeks warm from the blush spreading across them.

Severus laughed. Like, flat out laughed. I bit my lip. "Do you really think I would suggest doing something that would endanger you?" He asked me, his voice bordering on incredulous. "_Either_ of you?" He added after a moment's pause. I blushed harder. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine. "If it makes you nervous, we don't have to. But it's ok if we do."

He didn't say anything more, nor did he try to progress anything physically. As it went most nights, he was leaving the decision completely with me. It took me all of two seconds to kiss him. His reaction was just as instant as mine was, and it was only a matter of minutes before we were both shirtless. I hissed as his bare skin skated across mine. I bit his bottom lip as his hands ran down my back and around my hips. He growled something into my mouth and then picked me up in one fluid motion. His steps were solid as he headed towards the bedroom. I almost forgot to stop him.

"Why?" He asked me, and I could tell he was beginning to get frustrated. Sex wasn't something I normally over thought.

"Take me here," I told him breathlessly, pulling myself up his torso until my skin was flush against his. His hands tightened against me, but I felt him hesitate. We hadn't really explored different places or positions—aside from that one afternoon in the classroom. But the situation kind of dictated that we do something different. It hadn't been premeditated like this was. I chuckled a little bit. If you could even consider this premeditated.

He bit my lip. "What's so funny?" He asked me roughly, continuing to walk to the door. Was he seriously going to ignore my request? That was…unusual of him.

"Just something I thought," I told him. And then the coolness of the stone wall was pressing against my back. Goose bumps ran up my arms, and I couldn't resist the shiver that ran down my spine as he bit my lip again. His hands skated down my sides, tracing light circles over my hips. I pressed them against him, relishing in the satisfying friction it caused.

"Hmm…" he murmured as he took captive my mouth again. I gave it to him willingly, enjoying his taste on my tongue as he pulled my pajama pants off in one swift, fluid motion. I sat forward, pressing myself against him, running my hands down his back lightly. He bit my lip harder, and I let out a low moan. I ran my fingers down his hip lines lightly, outlining the perfect "v" they created. But my hands were shaking when they pressed against the top of his trousers out of desire, and I fumbled for a few moments with his front button without success. I let out an exasperated breath before pulling his wand out of his back pocket. With an easy flick, the pants disappeared. I eagerly pressed myself against him, letting out a small sigh as he skated across my core.

He kissed me one last time before pulling away from. "Open your eyes," his voice skated over me like warm velvet. It just stoked the flames of my desire; I couldn't stop the thrust of my hips. A strangled chuckle floated over me before his hands were on my hips. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his hips. "Hermione, look at me."

I did as he said, my eyelids sitting heavily over my eyes. His eyes made me suck in a breath—the intensity of the emotion was shocking. His left hand left my hip in favor of my cheek; I leaned into it. I felt him move the slightest amount, and then I felt him pressing into my entrance, my skin giving way painlessly to him. He didn't look away from me.

"Hermione, I love you," he told me quietly, fervently.

He entered me slowly, taking care to make sure I was accommodating him well. He arched one eyebrow after he was situated within me. I took a breath and then nodded. Whatever emotions he had been restraining during the night and our earlier conversation, he released them into me.

It was hard and fast, but not so fast that it frightened me. His mouth explored my neck and chest in ways that felt new despite the fact that they weren't. He surrounded me with his smell, his touch, his sound. In the darkness of our bathroom, pressed against the stone wall, I let myself disappear into the escape he gave me. I responded to his passion with passion and desperation of my own. There was no room for fear or thought—there was only me and him. His thrusts became increasingly harder, deeper, if it was even possible. I felt my stomach tighten, and then the climax was crashing around me. My legs tightened around him, holding him within me, as I let out a strangled cry.

"Sev—" I murmured against the skin of his neck, clutching his neck desperately. It was only two more thrusts before he stilled, and I felt him release inside of me. "Sev—" I murmured again and again and again, unable to complete his name.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me away from the wall as he sank to his knees. He pulled me with him when he fell onto his back; I lay ungracefully on top of him. His hands stroked my back as he kissed my neck gently. It was here, in his arms, that I was safe. It was here that I was me, that I was able to escape from the hell that was my mind. It was with him that I was ok.

"Severus, I love you, too."

And then I lay my head against his chest and fell asleep.


End file.
